A Crown of Golden Leaves
by xXTheDragonRiderXx
Summary: Annabeth, a princess from the declining kingdom called Greece, must marry the Heir Apparent of Roma, Perseus, in order to save her country and the rapidly expanding world from a threat even the gods couldn't foresee. [Updated irregularly!]
1. Part 1: Inceptions

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>May 2014<p>

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><p><strong>A Crown of Golden Leaves<strong>

**Summary:** Annabeth, a princess from the dying kingdom called Greece must marry the Heir Apparent of Roma, Perseus, to save her country and the rapidly expanding world from a threat even the gods couldn't foresee.

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><p>Part 1: <em>Inceptions<em>

**in·cep·tion**  
>inˈsepSH(ə)n

_noun  
><em>noun: **inception**; plural noun: **inceptions**

the establishment or starting point of an institution or activity.  
><em>"she has been on the board since its inception two years ago"<em>

**synonyms:** beginning, commencement, start, birth, dawn, genesis, origin, outset

**antonyms:** end

Part 2: _Culminations _

**cul·mi·na·tion  
><strong>ˌkəlməˈnāSH(ə)n/

_noun  
><em>noun: **culmination**; plural noun: **culminations**

1. the highest or climactic point of something, especially as attained after a long time.  
><em>"the product was the culmination of 13 years of research"<em>

**synonyms: **climax, pinnacle, peak, high point, highest point, height, high-water mark,top, summit, crest, apex, zenith, crowning moment, apotheosis, apogee

**antonyms: **nadir

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Do you have _any _idea how many people say this on this site? I mean really, it is, after all, _Fan_Fiction. Fine, fine... if I must... I do not own Percy Jackson, or any of the familiar characters seen. However, I _do _own the plotline, the setting, and any original characters that do not appear in _Percy Jackson & the Olympians _or _The Heroes of Olympus_, which are written by Rick Riordan.  
><strong>RatingWarnings: **T/Rated for violence, language, references to drug usage, references to flogging, references to suicide and depression, references to sexual content, attempted rape, etc.  
><strong>Main CharactersPairings: **Percy/Annabeth, along with some mentions of Thalia/Luke and Leo/Reyna, Reyna/Jason and Jason/Piper later in the story. Nico's there too.  
><strong>Important Note: <strong>I would like to thank ErinNovelist for the fantastic cover and ThePraetorLady for beta'ing.

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><p><strong>In Regards to Reviewing<strong>

In my one-shot "The Love Rivals," I posted a rant about how disappointed I was in authors who demand reviews yet don't review for others; until this day I still think it's hypocritical. Then I went into a little bit about how reviews are important and how I thank anyone who leaves back feedback. Because of that rant, I got a lot of messages from people who agreed with me and others who told me their personal reasons why they don't like to review. BOTH types of messages were gladly appreciated and I'm serious when I say you guys replied to my author's note, (whether you agreed or disagreed) you were giving me your opinion and we were communicating; that's what I want to see more on this site! Don't be afraid to tell me what you think.

The reason I'm posting this is to address the reasons why people don't feel like reviewing. Keep this in mind: I AM NOT BASHING ON THESE PEOPLE. Like I mentioned, these authors/guests told me their reasons why they hesitate on reviewing. They brought up GOOD POINTS and other issues on fanfiction that I know other readers are having.

So please, if you are a person who already reviews or feels confident in the feedback you leave, then you may skip this. However, if you are a reader who doesn't want to leave feedback for one of the following reasons or hesitate to comment on someone's story, then please continue reading.

_**Reason #1 someone might not leave a review: I don't want to disappoint the author.**_ This is understandable. A lot times you aren't going to read masterpieces; you'll find mistakes and probably don't want to point them out in fear that the author might take it as an insult (which sadly does happen). But here's the thing: as long as it's constructive criticism it's okay. Of course, don't go being a smart ass and point out every little mistake they did wrong (a lot of authors can't handle that). But if you focus on one or two of the major issues then an author shouldn't be insulted. For example, I notice a lot of people tend to put all their dialogue and action words in giant paragraphs and I've left comments saying it's harder to read that way. Only one person told me that they liked it that way but everyone else seemed to take my comment just fine. Pointing out something like that isn't hurtful; it's helpful.

_**Reason #2: The story is finished so it shouldn't matter.**_ That's not necessarily true. Even if THAT story is finished, your feedback can help the author when he/she wants to write something else in the future. Even writing one sentence that goes something like this: "I thought Natsu was really funny" can help the author SO much. I'm saying this out of experience. My first Nalu story was a one-shot and it's because people commented on what they liked/thought I continued writing in the Fairy Tail category.

_**Reason #3: I don't know what to say.**_ I like to believe this happens to A LOT of people. Have you ever read something, liked it but don't know how to put it in words? Especially when what you were left you speechless? Believe it or not, happens to me all the time. Here's my advice. Don't just not comment because you couldn't think of anything to say. Give it some time. Take a break and come back later. Even if it takes you a month, please still tell the author what you liked/didn't like. I'm 99% certain they'll appreciate it. Remember, feedback has NO expiration date. So feel free to comment when you like :) (P.S. If you're an author, maybe you can write a sentence explaining what kind of feedback you like. Some write 'no flames'; others ask their readers to be honest; some ask for constructive criticism. Writing something like this can help your reader know what would be appropriate to tell you)

_**Reason #4: Everyone else is writing great feedback but I don't think mine's any good**_ This goes back to reason #3. Sometimes people don't know what to write so they go on the reviews section to get an idea. However, after seeing so many people write good things, you get intimidated that yours won't be any good and leave. My advice is if you know you are a person who is discouraged when reading other people's reviews, don't read the review section. Just be honest to the writer about what you liked/didn't like and send that off as a feedback. Try not be worried about what everyone else is writing. Just let the author know what YOU thought.

_**Reason #5: The author probably doesn't care if I leave my feedback**_ Just because an author doesn't spend you a PM or comment on what you said doesn't mean they didn't read it and appreciate it. If it's a multi-chapter story, want to know how they show they still care? They'll update. Sometimes authors do stop writing because of personal manners; unfortunately it happens. But don't give up! You'll never know unless you try.

_**Reason #6: I don't want to be bashed or put on blast**_ Again, unfortunately this does happen. There are some authors who think your slightest critique is an attack on their work. I've been bashed for giving people advice a few times. It happens. But here's the thing: if you're not an author you would probably wouldn't know but on this site we agree to rules and guidelines every time we write a new story. One of our guidelines is this: "Respect the reviewers. Not all reviews will strictly praise the work. If someone rightfully criticizes a portion of the writing, take it as a compliment that the reviewer has opted to spend his/her valuable time to help improve your writing." If an author is bashing you because you said something like "I think the character is slightly OOC because of this reason…" that's the author's problem. First of all they're ignoring the Community Etiquette they've agreed to. Secondly, they're never going to improve on their writing because they've just lost someone who was trying to help them and it was all because of pride. Here's my advice. If you have a gut feeling that this person won't handle criticism (sometimes they write 'if you don't like don't read') then don't say anything. However, if you feel like it's something that should be heard, then leave feedback as a guest so they don't bash on you directly. However, don't assume that you'll always be bashed. A lot of authors on this site are cool with constructive criticism so it's rare that you'll find someone who doesn't want help.

_**Reason #7: The language the author has written the story in isn't my first language**_ One of the wonderful things about this site is that you have the option to write your story in multiple languages. It doesn't just have to be English. Sometimes I've gotten reviews from people who end it with 'sorry my English isn't as good' and honestly it doesn't bother me at all. The fact that you're trying to communicate with me even when you're limited in words makes me so happy! I have no right to judge you; I can only praise you for your attempt :) Advice for this one is difficult. I know there are authors who aren't satisfied with small word reviews (there's nothing wrong with that either: they just like to be critiqued so they can improve their writing.) I can only speak for myself on this one; if you're reading one of my stories and can't find what words to say or don't know how to write it in English that well, you can always send me a smiley face and I'll accept that as I did good. I just want us to communicate because communication between readers and authors is important :)

_**Reason #8: I favored/followed a story: shouldn't that count as me saying I like it?**_ I know this person had good intentions when saying this and was probably tired of seeing so many authors with 'please review' on their stories. However, I can't help but to feel slightly insulted.

NEVER think I don't appreciate someone who has favored/followed me or one of my stories. Seeing so many people like my story does bring me joy. It makes me feel like I've done something right.

But here's the thing: I FEEL like I've done something right is different from KNOWING I did something right; and how I know is through feedback. Before I say anything else, please consider these words: Readers have time to read stories; authors make time to write one.

As far as I'm concerned, we don't get paid. This isn't YouTube where the more subscribers you have the higher the chance you'll be rewarded with a contract and cash. We do this because we have an idea and want to hear what others think (if we didn't want anyone's opinions we would be typing our stories and leaving them on our computers for our eyes only). When we have an idea, we make time to write it. Authors are people; we have school, work, kids to take care of, boyfriends/girlfriends/wives/husbands to make time for, homework, friends to hang with, afterschool activities to go to, etc.

When a person ONLY favors/follows a story that only takes SECONDS; compare that to the HOURS, or even DAYS a writer spends on their story. So yes, favoring indirectly compliments an author but we would appreciate if you took a little more time like we have to tell us what you liked; even if it's just a sentence.

**-credit: Dark Shining Ligh****t**

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><p>I want to hide the truth<br>I want to shelter you.  
>But with the beast inside<br>there's no where we can hide.

Don't want to let you down  
>but I am held bond.<br>This is all for you  
>don't want to hide the truth.<p>

Your eyes, they shine so bright  
>I want to save that light.<br>I can't escape this now  
>unless you show me how.<p>

—Demons, Imagine Dragons


	2. Capvt I: A Chance Encounter

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>October 2014<p>

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><p><span>Capvt I: A Chance Encounter<span>

**Annabeth**  
><em>Spring, x175 BC<em>

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><p>'Once upon a time', that's how most of the Fairy Tales begin, right? That's how you're supposed to tell a good story. That's how you know everything will be alright in the end.<p>

But not this one.

This is not a story about a perfect princess. This is not a story about how beautiful her life was. This story is not about how beautiful her naivety was. This is not the story about how the man she loved thought she was a beauty and fell immediately for her.

No, not this one.

This is a story about a girl who was divided between her country and her feelings, between her parents and her husband. This is the story of a girl who went away from everything she knew. This is a story about how fast she had to grow up. This is a story about how she felt when she fell for the one she was supposed to hate—about how she felt when she betrayed her homeland. This is a story of destiny, and how it could change the world. For better or for worse.

This is a story of Rome.

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><p>The Roman Empire was a very beautiful place, or what she had seen of it so far.<p>

She hadn't seen the Eternal City itself, yet, but the outskirts were very pretty. The land came up to the Mare Nostrum as they sailed pass, cliffs rising above them thousands of feet and stretching into the sky. Waves crashed against the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs, jumping into the air up to fifty feet in a spray of blue and white. After the waves got pass the rocks (if there were any) they would surge toward the bottom of the cliffs, crashing so hard and so big that she thought occasionally that the cliffs would break.

They didn't break.

Other times, there were no cliffs, only flatland where the waves would roll gently up against the white and yellow sand. As opposed to the rough and wild nature of the water before, when the crashed against boulders and cliffs that dramatically went to the sea, this was gentle and soothing. It was healing.

Other times, there would be no land. Just the water stretching on forever and ever, gray fog and clouds covering the ocean making it appear gray rather than blue. It rained a lot too. Sometimes, so hard it would be like the rain goddess hated them. The seas would pitch and hurl, making their little ship go up and up, higher and higher, and then down and down back into the seas. Several times, it felt like it would break when it met the force of the raging ocean. It never did. She wasn't sure if Poseidon was protecting them, or if he was trying to kill them.

Once they got out of the seas and onto the lands, they would alternate between riding on horseback and walking. Much to her dismay, she found out that rainfalls would come in less than ten minutes, lasting for what seemed like forever but usually wasn't more than thirty minutes. There never was never enough time to get to shelter, and she normally ended up soaked to the skin.

However, the rest of the day was sunny and warm, sometimes too much so. She had never sweated so much in her life. Greece certainly didn't have weather like this. It rarely rained, and when it did, it stayed.

But Rome was green, and there were tall trees that had strange leaves that looked similar to the ones on Banana trees at the top of them. She almost got hit in the head by a round brown thing once, and one of the natives told her it was a 'coconut'. She added that to her vocabulary: "coconut", round brown things that can give you brain damage.

She could wear even her lightest toga and not get cold—something that was a miracle.

She hated Roma.

She _should _hate Roma, so she did. It had taken over and made her home weak. Her people were beginning to starve. She had to marry the next Caesar in order to save her people and to save her kingdom. They had taken their gods and made them 'perfect'.

That was an unforgivable offense.

"Princess?" a blond head popped around the tent they had set up for her. She didn't remove her gaze from the books she didn't know how to read. _Oh,_ how much she wished she knew how to read and write. But she was a girl after all.

She turn on her heel and clasped her hands behind her back. She let her lips curl up into a smile as she took in those light blue eyes of her dearest and oldest friend. Luke, son of Hermes, also her personal guard, he was like her brother. At one time, she had a crush on him but that faded when she got older and realized he was so _obviously _in love with Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

He was going to stay with her in Roma, along with a few of her other, and only, friends. At least she had been allowed to have them with her during this dark time.

Luke's eyebrows were scrunched together as he stepped inside of the tent, ducking his head under the makeshift doorframe so that he wouldn't hit it. He had to stoop a little so that he fit inside of the tent.

"Are you sure about this? There's still time to turn back."

Annabeth folded her arms under her chest, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "And admit defeat? No."

Luke raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if he was asking '_why me_'? "This isn't a war, and it isn't a matter of pride, Annabeth." He sounded frustrated, but they've been having this conversation for over a year. Ever since her father had announced that she was engaged to the Royal Court, and eventually the people. And Annabeth would make sure he got the same answer every time.

"I know it's not," she sighed. "Gods, Luke, do you think I _want _to marry a stranger?"

Luke glanced at her, "It sure seems like it." She narrowed her eyes at him and he held his hands up. "I'm just stating a fact." Annabeth sighed through her nose. "Why are you doing this anyway? And if it's a matter of pride…"

Annabeth lifted the left side of her lips up in a half smile. "No, not this time. We're in pandemonium, Luke. Cities are fighting each other for more power, don't get me started on Athens and Sparta. We're slowly crumbling. Our people are beginning to starve, Luke. We… I need someone by my side to help unite Greece again."

"And what if this man is a perverted old geezer?"

"Then I'm screwed."

Luke shook his head at her, "Is there _anything _I can do to change your mind?"

Annabeth unwound her arms and let them hang by her sides. She smiled up at him, despite the situation. He was like an overprotective big brother. "No, I'm convinced I'm doing the right thing."

A loud clashing sound came from outside, like the strike of metal on metal. Annabeth's breath caught in her throat as she heard the sound. She didn't know how to fight. Luke's hand had strayed toward his strange double metal sword. Backbiter, but Annabeth didn't know why a sword would be named that.

"Stay he…" he trailed off when the roof of the tent was ripped and they could see the sky. And a giant eye. "Never mind, run!" Luke shouted, pushing her toward the hole in the tent where the drape that usually covered the entrance stood. Annabeth glanced at him over his shoulder as he pushed her out, nearly stumbling over the stupid toga.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"It doesn't matter; I'll be fine! Go!" she gulped and nodded; the tone of his voice was not one to be messed with. She grabbed the front of her toga and lifted it up, noticing she didn't have her sandals on. She winced, she would regret that by the time this night was over. Her feet started moving of their own accord.

She ran through various spats and spars, there was Thalia charging her spear with electricity, and there was Leo, laughing manically with his hands on fire. She looked to her right, wincing as her foot landed in something warm and wet before going on quicker. Her feet stung already.

_From now on, I'm going to wear shoes to bed._ She thought as her gaze landed on Nico, who was calmly blasting a Cyclopes with his shadow power thingy. She quickened her pace even though her heart was racing and her lungs felt constricted.

There! The tree line! She would be safe! She dived between the trees, but she was running again. It was worse now, she felt like her lungs were on fire and her feet undoubtfully had splinters in them. There was something chasing her too, the footsteps were loud over her breathing. Tree branches started hitting her in the face and she held her arms up, shielding it as she ran. Her hair was falling down her back and her toga was slipping off her shoulders.

Suddenly, she tripped over something and rolled to the ground, clutching her ankle as icy hot pain seared through it. The thing following her was really close now. She closed her eyes and tried not to breathe through her mouth.

"Demigod lunch… mmm." A deep voice rumbled from above her. Despite herself, she opened her eyes and looked up, trying to ignore the way the hack hanged off the really, really big man's shoulders. There was his mouth and a nose. She gulped and looked a little higher.

She screamed, scrambling back into the trunk of the tree. The man wasn't a man, he only had one eye! Her heart, which had begun to calm down, raced again for an entirely different reason.

Cyclopes.

She curled into a ball, trying to make herself seem as small and unthreatening as possible. She was going to be eaten. She was going to die. She should have never come here, she should have stayed home—

"Get away from her!"

Annabeth flinched, there was another, more intelligent Cyclopes about to eat her. She began to pray to the gods.

_I'm sorry, please make it fast. I'm sorry I failed you all. You expected me to save you. I'm not worthy to be your champion. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm…_

"Are you an _idiot_?" an angry voice asked and she hesitantly opened one of her eyes. She saw legs covered in chainmail. She closed her eyes again. That didn't sound like a Cyclopes… that voice belonged to a young man. "Don't you know that these woods are infested with Cyclopes? I had to abandon my comrades because of you! And they're out there fighting!" Rough but gentle hands took her arms. Annabeth's eyes snapped open.

"Don't eat me!" she shouted, pushing the man away. She pushed herself against the tree, holding her hands out in a defensive gesture.

"What?!" the voice, the man, sounded surprised. "I don't eat little girls! I don't even eat humans! And I just saved you!"

Annabeth breathed heavily and looked at the stranger's face. Angular, and his lips looked chapped in the moonlight. She let her gaze travel up, closer to his eyes. She hoped he wasn't a Cyclopes.

Her breath caught in her throat and she suddenly forgot how to breathe. No… he certainly wasn't a Cyclopes. The most gorgeous pair of green eyes she had ever seen stared right back at her. They were so deep that Annabeth could almost see the storm behind them, brewing in their depths.

"I… I didn't know."

"Obviously."

She forgot all about his eyes at his tone of voice and she launched herself at him, poking him in his armored chest. "Now you just wait a moment. How do I know you're not planning to hurt me?"

He sent her a look that clearly asked, _are you stupid_? "I just saved you from a Cyclopes, missy."

Annabeth clenched her fists at her side, "Don't you _missy _me." She said it with a biting tone, "And I'm _not _a little girl. I'm seventeen summers."

The boy stared at her, "You _act _like a ten year old with the way you cowered away from the Cyclopes."

Annabeth threw her hands up in the air and let out a sound of exasperation escape her lips. "Who are you anyway?"

"Percy."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, nothing else? He held himself like a general would: shoulders back, head held high. "I'm Annabeth, princess of Greece."

The boy, Percy, made a sound as if he had just caught his breath abruptly. "I should've realized." He rubbed the area between his eyebrows, as if he was fighting an oncoming headache. Annabeth pressed her lips together tight.

"What?"

Percy shook his head, as if he was clearing a bad thought from his head. "Never mind. Come on, let's get back to that valley." He began to walk, clearly expecting her to follow but she glanced down at her ankle. It wasn't hurting at the moment, but she had a feeling if she put weight on it…

She gently pressed it against the ground and cringed. Bad sprain. But at least it wasn't broken.

"Are you coming, princess?" Annabeth narrowed her vision on Percy as he came back. The way he said the normally honorary title… it was like he was mocking her.

"No." she answered flatly. Percy tilted his head, his eyes flashing with an emotion she hadn't associated with him yet. Concern. Annabeth turned her head away, lifting her nose in the air as she crossed her arms. There was something different about Percy. Although he was obviously a stuck up Roman.

"Why not? Are you hurt?"

Annabeth clenched her fists around her arms tighter as she began to think obscenities, all of which were directed at him. He shook his head lightly and his eyes went down toward her feet. They widened and Annabeth shifted. Why did he look like that?

"Don't you Greeks wear shoes?"

Annabeth forgot about staying aloof. "Of course we do! I just didn't have time to put them on."

"Oh, I see. So you just decided to take a pleasant stroll through the monster infected forest."

"It doesn't seem very 'monster infested'."

She was practically spitting the words out and she focused on those dark eyes. What in Tartarus had she been thinking earlier? They weren't gorgeous, they were mysterious. And dark. And green. And ever changing and—no. She was going to get _married to the next Caesar. _She was _not _going to let a little-possible crush get in her way!

Percy took a step back and she suddenly realized that their chests had been brushing. Her cheeks felt warm.

"Are you _always _this argumentative?" he tilted his head, his lips twitching for the first time since she had met him. Annabeth huffed and looked at the ground.

"Just shut up and help me."

Percy's eyebrows shot up for half a second then went back into their normal position. Annabeth made sure she was still scowling as he walked up to her and…

Huh?

"You're supposed to jump on my back." Percy instructed patiently. Annabeth bit her bottom lip and she wrapped her arms around his neck and then her legs around his waist. She knew what this was, but she hadn't done it since she was a child. After all, it was improper.

_Go to Hades, _Annabeth thought at her thoughts, pushing them back. So what if it wasn't proper? She couldn't walk. Percy stood up abruptly, making her yelp and wrap her arms around his neck tighter.

"You're, choking me, princess." He coughed but still somehow kept that mocking tone. Annabeth briefly considered tightening her arms around him, but decided against it. She needed him to take her back so she could meet back up with her party.

So, they walked on in comfortable silence.


	3. Capvt II: The Spark

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>October 2014<p>

* * *

><p><span>Capvt II: The Spark<span>

**Annabeth**  
><em>Spring, x170 BC<em>

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><p>Annabeth let out a sigh of relief when she saw the clearing. She honestly was surprised at how far she ended up running, it had taken Percy quite a long time to get back to the edge of the forestry… after a little bit of backtracking.<p>

She was relieved that the sounds of fighting had stopped, and all she could hear was the birds in the distance whistling and Percy breathing. He was actually warmer than she had at first realized, but not uncomfortably so.

Actually, she had sort of been expecting him to be cold like his personality.

Annabeth slid off his back carefully, not alerting anyone to their presence. The camp seemed to be fuller, but she had a suspicion that it was due to Percy's party… oh, she hoped no one had been injured too badly. She could smell blood in the air and she could see leftover monster dust. An arm went out and Annabeth tilted her head at it, so, Percy was considerate?

She took it, nearly gasping as her whole arm felt like it had been struck by lightning and then it traveled all over her body, leaving her ears ringing.

"You alright?" Percy was staring at her, one of his eyebrows raised and Annabeth nodded, trying to get her body under control. What the Hades was _that_?

"Fine."

He nodded and they walked over toward the camp.

"Annabeth!" a familiar voice shouted and she looked up from her staring contest with the ground. Thalia ran in front of her, stopping the two of them as her roamed up and down her body. They went wide. "You're hurt! We thought we lost you when Jason said that place was infested with monsters."

Percy shot her a look, like, _I told you so! _Annabeth ignored it, focusing on Thalia who seemed to have calmed down. "I'm fine, Thalia."

Thalia rolled her eyes and turned toward Percy. "Thanks for saving her, sir. I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him when he snorted. "It's just Percy." He didn't offer a reply to the later statement. Thalia's eyes widened and Annabeth shifted when her eyes flashed over to her then back at Percy.

"Wait so you're..." she clapped her hands over her mouth and Annabeth felt question marks dance around in her head and probably all over her face too. Percy stepped away from Annabeth, rubbing the back of his neck. Annabeth wonder why the air was suddenly felt chilly.

Thalia shook her head and her gaze went back on Annabeth. "You know, maybe we should have kept you here with us. You've got more injuries than all of us combined." She raised her eyes to the sky and walked up to her. Annabeth snorted, of course her luck would be that bad. "Come on, let's get you patched up." She sighed and wrapped one of Annabeth's arms around her neck and shoulders. Percy took the other side.

"We'll have to get back to Roma soon," he sounded tired for some reason. "The Caesar is expecting us back soon, and we're already running late."

Thalia glanced at him and smirked. "Jason said your comrades ready to go back to Tartarus."

Percy, for the first time, let out a sound that sounded like a short laugh. "I see his sense of humor is as sharp as always. Tell him I'm coming."

After Annabeth sat down on one of the logs, Percy smiled briefly at her and bowed. "I'll see you again, princess." There was still a mocking edge to it, but Annabeth found she didn't mind it for once. She was confused about how it sounded like a promise, there was no guarantee they would see each other.

But, she nodded her head in return. "If you say so."

She tried to ignore the way the pale-skinned woman glared at her as Percy waved over his shoulder and disappeared into the night.

It was in that moment Annabeth realized he only had four other people with him.

~…~

They were finally here, after over a season of travel. They had left when the leaves were changing colors. Now they were here, when the flowers started to bloom.

So why did Annabeth feel like she was marching toward her funeral? She should feel excited, ready to leap up and down in joy while screeching at the top of her lungs. Maybe a little nervous too, but she shouldn't feel this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Who goes there?" the sentry's eyes were hard as he stared over her party. Annabeth swallowed hard. Would any of her friends be hurt? Luke? Thalia? Nico? Piper? Leo? Maybe even Beckendorf or Silena? She pulled the hood away from her face and lifted it so she could stare at him in the eye.

"Princess Annabeth of Greece," she was surprised at how steady it sounded, despite the way she wanted to burst into tears and hide behind Luke or Thalia like she when she was a little girl. But she _wasn't _a little girl. No matter what Percy said.

"Princess!" his eyes were huge as he clumsily got to one knee. Annabeth shook her head quickly and stepped forward, holding her hand down toward him. He stared at her hand, as if he didn't know what to do, before he reached out and took it. Annabeth ignored how weak it was and pulled him to his feet.

"In my home, we simply nod our heads." She let her lips curl into a smile and the man blinked a couple of times, as if he wasn't used to such a reaction. The smile slipped, what had she gotten into? Maybe she should have taken up Luke's offer on running away… but it was too late now. "May we go in?" She jerked her head back toward her comrades, indicating them. The man's face resembled a fish.

"Uh… n-names please?"

Annabeth ignored the stutter. "Luke, son of Hermes, Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Nico, son of Hades, Piper, daughter of Aphrodite, Silena, daughter of Aphrodite, Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, Will, son of Apollo…" and she went on, listing the names of the guards until she got to the youngest, a girl of barely twelve summers and who had stowed away with them. "Astoria, but she's not claimed yet."

The man smiled down at Astoria with a hint of sympathy in his eyes before back at Annabeth. "What about you? Don't you have a godly parent?"

Annabeth shook her head, "I don't even know if I'm fully mortal or a demigod."

The man nodded, as if he had suspected that and stepped aside. "May the gods be with you. _Ave!_"

~…~

As soon as she stepped inside of the Eternal City, Annabeth was whisked away by female strangers. They may have looked weak, but they were strong. Luckily, Thalia, Piper and Silena managed to keep up with the giggling maids, so Annabeth wasn't alone in the dark.

They pulled her into a room and put a piece of cloth over her eyes. A gentle hand went on her shoulder and Annabeth allowed herself to be pulled into pulled into a warmer area. She knew the moment she stepped inside of Roma, she would be ushered off and fitted into her wedding toga. She hoped it wouldn't fall off during the ceremony, that would be embarrassing.

Her travelling clothes were pulled off her shoulders and they fell to the ground. Annabeth shivered as the cool air hit her full blast, but the women either didn't notice it or didn't care.

"It'll have to be made smaller around the waist, Gwen." The woman sounded older, perhaps in her mid-twenties?

"I hope this goes over well… Roma and Greece have been on bad terms lately…."

"I know."

"How about flowers in her hair? Like the laurel?"

"Can't, remember the crown?"

Annabeth felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her, too much Aphrodite in this room. It felt like she had just spent the time between sunrise and sunset with the goddess. The chattering died down until there was none and the atmosphere was serious as something was slipped over her shoulders.

More poking, and the dress tightened around her waist and her chest, but the skirt part stayed the same. A hand guided her again until she was sitting down on something. A stool?

"Promise you won't peak while we do your hair?" The one Annabeth thought was Gwen asked. She nodded and the blindfold came off her eyes. Hands went through her hair and she heard several people clucking their tongues. Piper appeared in front of her and Annabeth bit her bottom lip.

"How do I look?"

Piper smiled, but there was a tear falling out of her right eye. "Gorgeous."

~…~

Annabeth took a deep breath as she stared at the doors that at any moment could open. When that happened, her fate would be sealed. There would be no turning back. There had been no turning back since she got to the city gates. She was to be married to the heir of Roma.

Was he going to be a pervert, like Luke suggested? Would he be kind or cruel? Would she even like him? Would he hate her? Would he hit her? Would he hurt her? Was he young? Was he old? Was he her age? Was he…

"There's no turning back now, is there?" a voice at her side sighed and Annabeth looked at Luke.

"Sorry I dragged you into this."

Luke snorted, "I would've come anyway." A snort rose in her but she choked it back down through sheer willpower. Of course he would come, he was _Luke _for gods' sake! He would always come, even though she may not want him to. Especially when she didn't want him to, like that time when she was hanging out with that boy and he thought poor Conner was making a move on her. He was _way _too overprotective.

She paused and turned toward him, her heart thumping wildly. "Luke, thank you."

Luke's lips turned downward as his eyebrows furrowed together. "What have I done?"

Annabeth let her lips curl up as a huff rose through her. "Everything." she quickly pecked him on the cheek before she turned back to the doors. The beginning of a slow song was starting. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Luke stepped away from her and melted back into the shadows like Nico did. Had Nico taught him how to do that?

"Goodbye, princess." His voice whispered from the shadows and Annabeth let her gaze fall to the ground. The way he said that, it was like he was saying goodbye forever. Perhaps he was, in a way. She wouldn't be just the princess of Greece after this, she would be the Heir Apparent of Roma as well, and she had a strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn't like she was jittery and she felt like she was about to throw up. Nor was it like the time where she had screamed at her father when he had announced she was going to be married. No, it was more like that time when the gods appeared in that dream and announced her as their champion. Whatever that meant.

The doors swung open.

Annabeth took a deep breath, why was her breathing picking up? Why did she feel like she was about to burst into tears? She should be smiling, perhaps laughing. But now, it took all of her willpower to not frown.

_"Papa, papa!"_

_"What is it, Annabeth?"_

_"Nurse read me a story about a prince and princess who fell in love! I wanna fall in love too!"_

_"Not anytime soon I hope!"_

Annabeth had an odd urge to laugh and cry at the memory. That had been when she was very young, maybe six or seven, and it was before her father had started to pull away from her. It looked like she wouldn't get what she wanted after all.

She began the long walk down the aisle, studying the way her hands were clasped in front of her. She couldn't look up at the person she was supposed to marry, not yet. She didn't have the courage to.

There were the steps. Should she look up now? Before she had decided, a tan hand appeared in her vision and Annabeth blinked. It didn't belong to an old person, so that was off. Would he be a pervert though?

Annabeth gulped and took his hand, a familiar but strange sensation shot through her, like it had a couple of nights ago when she met Percy. It felt like a thousand bolts of lightning had went through her, but they didn't hurt her. They sent her heart pounding and the blood rushed around in her head, leaving her ears ringing yet again. And there was only one person she knew who had done that…

She looked up.

Annabeth was sure she resembled a fish in that moment as she stared at his familiar face. He looked different in the daylight, but she would recognize those eyes anywhere. "You!" she hissed, trying to force down the urge to punch and scream and cry. Why in Hades did she feel that way? She didn't really know him, so why-

"I'm not _that _ugly."

Annabeth wondered if it was possible to shoot daggers with her eyes as Percy led them up to the priest. "You didn't tell me you were the Heir Apparent!" she muttered through her clenched teeth. Oh, how she wished she could get her hands around his neck right at that moment…

"Yeah, well, _technically _we shouldn't have met until now."

Was it possible to stomp on his foot without anyone noticing? "Still! You could have at least _hinted _at it." she tightened her hold on his hand and hoped it hurt. Percy's blank expression wavered for a moment and Annabeth resisted the urge to smirk.

"I'm thinking I should have."

"Dearly beloved, we are here today…"

Annabeth blocked the priest's droning voice out and focused on Percy. "What's that supposed to mean?" She wished she could cross her arms, but seeing as Percy was holding both of her hands, that was impossible.

"Well, you're arguing with me like a little girl would." He obviously put the little in there to annoy her more. Annabeth couldn't repress the growl.

"I'm _not _a little girl."

Percy stared at her, "Of _course _not."

"Don't mock me!"

He smirked and, if it was possible, that was more annoying than the mocking tone. Annabeth could just _see_ that he was a trouble maker. She decided to put that on her mental list of things that made Percy annoying… it was beginning to become very long. "You really don't like being called little, do you?"

Annabeth nearly stomped her foot, but she remembered where they were. Plus, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting her annoyed enough to react like that. "No, I was teased for being short when I was little though."

Percy lifted an eyebrow, but he didn't comment on it.

"Perseus," Percy turned toward the priest, and Annabeth suddenly realized she had no idea where they were in the ceremony. She glanced around and noticed the Caesar was walking up to them, holding a crown with the design of golden leaves. She knew they were close to the end of the ceremony.

She moved her gaze back to the priest, who was smiling slightly, as if he was amused by something. Annabeth bit back a curse, he must have realized they were arguing. "Do you agree for this woman to be by your side, for as long as you both shall live?"

Percy glanced at Annabeth, and she wondered for a heartbeat if he was going to say no. Then what would happen? "I do."

Annabeth wondered why she felt so relieved and maybe even happy. The priest turned toward Annabeth, "And do you agree for this man to be by your side, for as long as you both shall live?"

She hesitated for half a heartbeat before she nodded. For her people, for her people. "I do."

The priest smiled and Annabeth suddenly felt like she had made the right decision. The Caesar, Percy's father apparently, walked up to Annabeth, holding the crown of golden leaves in his hands gently, as if it was about to break. She stared into those hard eyes, as dark as the night. They weren't anything like Percy's, which were as ever-changing as the sea. These were hard and cold, they were the eyes of a killer. They were the eyes of a tyrant. And those eyes didn't match his scarecrow body.

"Caesar Octavius," the priest didn't meet the Caesar's eyes as he held his hands out. Percy released one of Annabeth's hands, but he held the other. Annabeth glanced at her… husband almost on instinct and noticed he looked a little paler.

The Caesar nodded at the priest and placed the crown in his hands before he turned to Percy. "I'm proud of you, Perseus."

Percy made an odd face, as if he was hiding a grimace. "Thank you, pater."

The Caesar smiled and turned to Annabeth. She froze at the way his eyes seemed to pierce into her soul and strip her naked. This stare wasn't like the dark haired woman's, this was much more predatory. It was as if he was trying to see all of her weakness to exploit them. He removed his heavy stare from Annabeth and she nearly let out a sigh of relief escape. Perhaps that was why Percy had been so pale.

He held it out to the anointer, who took it gently.

He turned back to Annabeth and lifted the crown. With a startle, Annabeth realized she was down on one knee already. When had that happened? A hand squeezed her and she realized it was Percy… why would he do that?

The anointer began the end of the ceremony. "Will you defend the kingdom?"

She nodded, "I will."

"Will you maintain the laws of the empire?"

"I will."

"Will you maintain justice?"

"I will."

Annabeth bowed her head a little as he got to the end of the passage and began to lower the crown. No more. No more would she be Princess Annabeth of Greece. No more would she have very little responsibility. She would be the Heir Apparent of Roma. She would be expected to... birth an heir.

The thought almost made her throw up.

Suddenly, there was a slight weight on her head and Percy was helping her up. She couldn't think. She felt numb all over. All she could was follow his lead, and hope Percy didn't do or say anything stupid. (She refused to listen to the tiny voice nagging at saying it was the opposite way around.)

"Ave! Heir Apparent Annabeth of Greece!"

The crown of golden leaves rested on her head, and suddenly it felt a little heavier.

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response(s)<strong>

NoNumbersInMyUsername: Thank you for reviewing! :D Well, luckily, I just posted the next chapter... this one, I mean, obviously. I can't do two chapters at once, unfortunately. . Yup, Annabeth's married to Percy- and yeah, she sort of gets into an argument with him... hehe... As for Annabeth calling him 'My Lord'... weeeelll... we'll just have to wait and see, huh? ;) I'm glad you thought last chapter was great- hopefully, this one was at least satisfactory, despite the fact that it has a more Christian ceremony. -.- I couldn't find any actual wedding things that dated back into the BCs, so I went with a christian one, since, I'm, well Christian. Oops? :3 And don't worry- I've got up to Chapter 7 pre-edited and 11 pre-written (kind of...), and this is going to be my NaNoWriMo project, so the wait hopefully won't be horribly long. :) _  
><em>

_On a side note, I'm sorry about the fact that the ceremony was more Christian instead of Roman. I _have _done quite a bit of research, but I was unable to find anything related to Roman Wedding Ceremonies back before Christ was born. *sheepish expression* I probably _could _have gone with a Greek one, and I probably will, once I get around to editing the first book again (I usually only proof-read the chapters before posting, and then I edit extensively, unless they _really _needed to be edited). If you _do _know anything related to Roman Wedding Ceremonies (books, movies, scripts _not _off of Wikipedia, etc.) then feel free to PM them to me, or review with a link related to them. :) _

_Also, if anything seems off historically, then please point it out and I'll do my best to fix it. I don't have a beta reader (and probably won't until once I finish writing this... and if someone offers), so I do my best to keep out any typos and stuff. :)_


	4. Capvt III: Prejudice

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>October 2014<p>

* * *

><p><span>Capvt III: Prejudice<span>

**Annabeth**  
><em>Spring, x170 BC<em>

* * *

><p>Okay, so <em>maybe <em>she was scared to death about the consummation of marriage. _Maybe _she was worried about not being good enough.

Annabeth walked with her hair loose and barefooted to the chambers which she would share, yes, _share_, with Percy. If Roma wasn't strange enough, there was this tradition where the husband and wife would share their chambers. Unlike back in Greece, where there would be two chambers joined and then the husband would…

Never mind. Stop thinking about it. It'll be over sooner that way.

She stared at the door toward Percy's chambers and raised her hand, Piper's instructions ringing through her head as her friend got her ready. Annabeth had always wondered why she wasn't a hunter with the way she talked about stuff like that. Now, Annabeth wished she _was _a hunter of Artemis—at least she would be safe.

Of course, she would probably end up regretting it eventually.

Annabeth shook her head and placed her hand on the doorknob. She would be brave, she would be strong. She turned the doorknob, preparing for the sight of him completely—

His chambers were a pigsty.

Annabeth felt her eyebrow twitch as she took in the empty chambers. It looked like a hurricane had hit them. Dirty clothes were strewn all over and apple cores were on the ground. The bed wasn't even made!

"How in Hades does someone _live _in this?" Annabeth found herself a little awed despite herself as she carefully stepped inside of it. The door closed behind her with a loud bang and she cringed. That was an omen if she ever saw one, but she didn't know if it was a good one or bad.

Carefully, she lifted the skirts of her nightdress and stood on her tippy-toes, trying to avoid stepping on the ground as much as possible. She leaned down and picked the core to a fruit (it certainly wasn't an apple) and gagged as she held it as far away from her face as she could.

If she was going to live here, it was going to be at least _sanitary_.

* * *

><p>Annabeth nodded to herself in satisfaction a little while later, sitting on the made up bed. She had cleaned it up as best as she could, even if there was a stain in the rug that looked like honey.<p>

Once she had cleaned it up, she had been pleasantly surprised. It actually was a nice chamber: fairly spacious, with daybed and a wardrobe and tables on the ends of the beds and a chest at the bottom of it. There was also a balcony to see the streets of Roma, though that would be more useful during the daytime.

She had ended up kicking Percy's clothes to the side of the room, while throwing the fruit cores in something that looked like a bowel, but thinner and taller. The walls of the chamber were the color of the sea, while the ceiling was a simple white. The covers on the bed were a design similar to the laurel crown she wore, except they were green and silver along with gold colored trimming that reminded her of the crown. The wardrobe, too, had gold for its trim, but the wood was red. The end tables were made out of redwood, too, and there was gold for the trimmings, along with the couch.

Percy seemed to like red and gold, but Annabeth had to admit she liked the blue more. Something about the color was calming; perhaps that was why he chose it.

The doors suddenly opened slowly and closed. Annabeth's head shot up, she had just started to relax. Percy stood in front of them, frowning a little as if he was angry or worried over something. Annabeth didn't know what it was, but she knew both would probably be worse for her.

"P-Perseus?" she wanted to slap a hand on her mouth. Not only had she stuttered, but she had drawn attention to herself. Perseus glanced up and met her gaze, and then those eyes narrowed. He strode across the room with soft yet loud footsteps, the air filled with tension and Annabeth dropped her gaze back on the floor. Her heart raced, and her fingers felt numb. She wanted to cry too.

A rough hand suddenly grabbed hold of her chin and forced her face up so she had to meet those dark eyes. They looked like a rough sea, when a storm was thundering through it. The waves would jump up fifteen, twenty feet and Annabeth would feel very, _very _seasick.

"Don't."

Annabeth's stomach clenched, and a few tears popped into her eyes against her will, "Don't what, my lord?" she decided it would be safer for her if she was polite. Apparently, that was her mistake. His grip tightened around her chin, to the point it was almost painful.

"_Don't_ call me Perseus or 'my lord'. I get enough of that from everyone else."

Annabeth tried to nod, but the way he was holding her face made it impossible. Percy seemed to realize that, because he pulled his hand away but not his body. Annabeth massaged her chin reflexively.

"Fine, idiot."

One of Percy's eyebrows shot up at her insult, as if he was surprised that she still had her sharp tongue handy. To be honest, Annabeth was a little surprised herself. Idiot certainly wasn't her best insult, though that was the first word that came into her mind when she thought of Percy. "What?"

"You act like an idiot." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, and Percy blinked a couple of times, as if he was confused over her mood swing. He coughed and his eyes roamed around the room, obviously just realizing it looked, different.

"…what happened to it?" Percy sounded breathless and Annabeth couldn't resist beaming at him. He turned to her and raised the eyebrow again. Annabeth was beginning to realize that was one of main expressions, along with smirking and the blank face. She didn't know which one was the most annoying.

"I cleaned it up."

Percy's other eyebrow shot up but his lips were twitching slightly, as if he was resisting the urge to smile. Perhaps he was human after all.

"Really?" she wondered if he was stupid and he rubbed the back of his neck. She added that to her list of _Percy's Human Gestures_, which was still very short. Her other list of _Percy's Human Emotions_ had nothing on it, other than 'being annoying' while the list of Percy's annoying habits was already getting long…

"Only you would do something like this on our wedding night, Annabeth." He shook his head and she thought she heard a chuckle, but it was too faint for her to hear it properly. Besides, her ears had began to ring again and her knees suddenly felt a little weak. All of her blood rushed to her brain, or at least, it felt like that and she swallowed hard.

"Hey, you alright?" he waved a hand in front of her face, his eyebrows furrowing together and Annabeth wondered if he had forgotten, though that was impossible. Shouldn't that have been on his mind? "Oh." His eyes widened, as if he just realized something and he took a step away from her. "_Oh! _Sorry!"

She wrapped her arms around herself. Why did he apologize? After all, it wasn't like he wasn't about to take her virtue. He might as well get it done as quickly as possible, because according to Piper, men _never_ apologized for that kind of stuff… nor should they. Though Percy had already proved one of her closest friends wrong already, when he hadn't assaulted her immediately…

"It's alright." She said.

Silence fell between the two of them, but Annabeth wasn't if that was a good sign. With her luck, it would probably be the opposite.

"Let's talk."

She jumped as she realized Percy was sitting on the bed, patting the space next to him. Biting her lip, she did what she was ordered to do and sat next to Percy, attempting to take as little space as she had to.

Percy fiddled with his fingers for a moment, looking just as awkward as she felt scared. He didn't look at her, but his ears were a little red. His stare was distant and unfocused, as if he could see something she couldn't. Annabeth began to chew on her bottom lip.

And then he spoke up.

"We're married," Annabeth raised an eyebrow, but she nodded anyways when he looked at her. This was definitely not the direction she thought her wedding night would go toward, although that necessarily wasn't a bad thing… "We cannot change that. Today, I promised to take care of you until I die and I don't go back on my word." Annabeth tilted her head as she slowly released herself from the ball. His eyes were directed at the wall now.

"So, from today on, you and I are linked forever." He paused, "And forever is a _very _long time. I know a few married couples who hate each other because they were forced to get married, or never tried to get along and I don't want this. If you and I are going to stay by each other's sides, I think I have to know you first and vice-versa."

Annabeth found herself staring at him; this… was definitely not what she was expecting. "And, how do we do that?" She found herself asking despite herself, even though a thousand possibilities had flashed through her mind in a moment.

Percy glanced at her and smiled slightly. A smile tugged at her lips despite, as if his was contagious. It probably was. "Well…" he looked up at the ceiling, still smiling a little and the blush had resided away from his ears, "I think we have to talk or something." He shrugged. "I mean, that's the fastest way of knowing each other, right?"

Annabeth's heart started to slow down to its normal beat, but questions were beginning to stir in her mind and her heart was doing something funny. Plus, her stomach was clenching. "Why are you doing this?" She asked quietly, and she wondered if this was a dream. A wonderfully bizarre dream.

He looked confused, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well… it is our wedding night… wouldn't it be considered improper, not to?" She weighed her words carefully, trying to get the meaning of them across to him, but not directly saying the 'S'-word. Percy looked confused for a moment, before he turned as white as a sheet of papyrus.

"Oh. That." He scratched the back of his head, "Well… I'd prefer to be friends with my wife before doing of that. And I'm not letting my pater or the Senate say otherwise."

A careful smile made its way on Annabeth's lips, "Thank you." She whispered, bowing her head. There was a hand on her shoulder, and she peered up at Percy. He had a beautiful grin on his face, silly and dorky, and not at all what a future Caesar of Roma should have. But it was definitely him. She blinked.

"No problem." There was an odd light in his eyes, almost as if he was happier than she could ever know, and he got up from the bed. "Let's get some sleep. We can talk some more tomorrow."

She glanced from him to the bed the back at him, and his grin softened into a smile. He took a pillow, and Annabeth frowned unconsciously.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice cheerful. "You get the bed and I'll take the couch until we agree otherwise." He pointed at the daybed, and her eyes widened. It should be the other way around, this was his home, not hers.

"I can take the couch, I don't mind."

He rolled his eyes, "Of course not." There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice, and Annabeth narrowed his eyes at him. He held his hands up. "I know you think the couch is not comfortable, but it is. To tell the truth, sometimes I just sleep there when I'm too tired to get under the covers."

Annabeth peered at him suspiciously, looking for any signs he was telling a lie. Twitching, blinking, nervous expression, all of it. But all she saw was open honesty on his face.

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly, then yelped as one of the pillows smacked her in the face. She caught it quickly and narrowed her eyes at Percy, who was wearing an all-to-mischievous expression that reminded her of Luke when he was about to pull a prank.

He took another pillow, and Annabeth prepared to whack him with the one he gave her. "Of course I am, Annabeth. If you ask that again, I will whack you with another pillow."

She sighed at his completely serious—well, almost completely serious—expression, but waited until he had placed the pillow on his daybed before she stretched out and got under the covers. Then she noticed he didn't have a blanket, so she got out of the covers and grabbed one from the pile of them she had made on the bottom of the bed and threw it at him. He caught it without looking, then he glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she echoed his previous reply and his smile turned secretive as he laid out on his daybed. She sighed and got back under the covers.

Her eyes were already slipping shut, she realized with a little startle. She hadn't realized she was _that _tired. But there was still one thing she had to do… "G'night, Percy." She whispered.

His form went stiff under the blanket, then it relaxed. "Sweet dreams, Annabeth." His voice was tired, but she had a feeling it wasn't because he was physically tired, somehow.

Annabeth knew she should feel worried or surprised or confused that she already was getting to know her husband well enough to know a couple of his moods, but all she felt was a sort of sleepy contentment and a strange warmth filled her.

Perhaps Romans weren't so bad after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response(s)<strong>

AgitatedDog9288: Thank you for reviewing! :D I'm glad you think this is interesting. It's certainly fun to write! :D

percabethforever6775: Thanks for the review! I'm happy you think it's really good. :)

NoNumbersInMyUsername: Thanks for reviewing! Yay! This time, I hope it's "acceptable", since this was one of the harder-to-write chapters... maybe due to the maturer theme of it. . And yeah, Percy's dad was based off of Octavian... sort of. It was my _original _intention... now, it's somewhat questionable. O.o Do you think Octavian was a sociopath in HoO? Um... not that it has any relation to this, of course. ;) Oooh, Roman Orthodox... I never even thought of that. Tbh, I've only been to one or two weddings, and that was when I was five or six, so I don't remember much of them... :3 Hmmm, I'll have to add that to my *Book Revision* notes...

FandomsAreMyLife4Ever: Thank you! I'm glad you loved the story. And I hope you liked this update. :)


	5. Capvt IV: Iridescence

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>November 2014<p>

* * *

><p><span>Capvt IV: Iridescence<span>

**Annabeth**  
><em>Spring, x176 BC<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Iridescent: <strong>showing many colors

* * *

><p>"Annabeth…"<p>

_Annabeth looked up from the surface she had been sitting on and peered into the white mist. Her eyes narrowed and her heart began to pound rapidly under her chest—ba-boom, ba-boom, b-ba-boom, boom, ba-boom._

_There was a gust of wind that blew her hair across her face, though she was in a place that was suspended in time and space, and the mist cleared. A tall, black haired woman was walking toward her, grim-faced as ever._

_She stood up and curtsied, lowering her head so that she would not have to look into the goddess' gray eyes. "Mother," she greeted, forcing her voice to stay steady and unemotional._

_"Rise," Athena commanded in a dead voice. Annabeth lifted her head slowly, just in case the woman was angry for some reason. She could never be sure with her mother._

_"Why are you here? Why have you come into my conscious? My lady?" she added the last part hastily, realizing her tone had been less than respectful, and the goddess' lips twitched for a moment before her face became hard._

_"Have a guess, Annabeth. You are not that unintelligent."_

_Annabeth scowled for a moment, trying not to cross her arms as that would show defiance. It wasn't exactly her fault father had decided that reading and writing and mathematics were useless skills for a girl—even if she was a daughter of Athena—and instead stuck her with the ladies of the court. It wasn't exactly her fault that the only thing she really knew was how to keep her mouth shut and to crochet. Oh, and how to gossip—even if that made her feel like she was about to explode._

_She held her hand up and let her wrist face Athena, showing her the dark lines of the owl that had been burned into her skin… very much against her consent. "Does it have something to do with _this_?"_

_"Do not tell me you are still bitter over something so trivial."_

_"_Trivial? _You burned a permanent _thing _in my skill—against my consent, and even after I told you not to!" Annabeth didn't mention the burning pain that had almost knocked her into a coma. She hadn't been able to properly use that hand, which had caused some very awkward questions. But it wasn't like she could say her crazy mother had decided to burn some permanent black ink into her wrist. Oh, and she had 'visions' of Athena ever since she was a child._

_"Enough with this!" Athena's voice turned piercing, and her gray eyes turned a shade darker. "You are being melodramatic."_

_Annabeth pressed her lips together, trying not to say something she knew she would regret later. _One, two, three, four, five… _she counted inside of her head, and once she reached ten she let out a huff._

_"I have a feeling it has something to do with the Mark of Athena."_

_Athena shook her head slowly and smiled. It wasn't mischievous like Lord Hermes', it was colder, crueler… more calculating, like she had just figured out how to checkmate Lord Poseidon in a game of chess (the sea god was almost as good as Athena herself at chess)._

_"Nay. It has to do with your destiny."_

_"Which one?" Annabeth snorted derisively before she could help herself. "The Champion of Olympus one? Or the Mark of Athena one?"_

_"You know you have many more destinies than just that."_

_Annabeth half raised her foot off the ground before she caught herself—she was not childish. "That's _so _helpful, mother."_

_Her mother began to pace, her purple cloak trailing out behind her over the gold chiton, the picture of grace and dignity. Also the picture of exasperation, though._

_"It has to do with you being the Champion of Olympus—though I have doubts about that happening." Athena stopped to eye Annabeth, and she glanced down at herself. Barefooted (as always, Percy had a point about that), clean, white, nearly see-through nightgown and overall plain ol' Annabeth. Yup. She could tell why her mother would think that._

_"Mother," she reminded Athena politely. The goddess arched an eyebrow._

_"Annabeth," she mimicked in the same tone. "As I said, it has something to do with you being _one _of the Champions of Olympus."_

_"I have no idea what you're talking about now." Annabeth said honestly and quite serenely, in her high opinion. "Please, mother, elaborate."_

_"Your husband."_

_Annabeth sat up straighter, "What about Percy?"_

_"It is his destiny to be the founding father of Rome—the footsteps in which future generations will follow in. It is his destiny to bring upon us one of the greatest empires to mankind."_

_"Let me guess, there's a twist." Annabeth said sarcastically, already sensing the _but_. Athena nodded, her lips curling up in a rarely non-mocking smile of Annabeth's poor education._

_"There is. Octavius has a great influence on him."_

_"So, it is my destiny to break that influence?"_

_"Not quite, my daughter. You are destined to be… oh, what is that saying? Ah, I got it. You are one side of the coin—he is the other. There is a similar prophecy, how a child of Hecate is to advise one of the greatest mortal kings of Brittania—that their deeds will be so great, that it will become legendary and will be known about until the ends of time itself. Like Shakespeare or Queen Elizabeth."_

_"You're talking nonsense to me again, mother." Annabeth remarked humorously. Athena looked up into the white expanse for a half second, before her gaze bored into hers. Annabeth felt like her mother was looking into her soul, reading everything about what made her, Annabeth—and Annabeth could not let her down._

_She shifted._

_"I will try to put this into simpler terms for your inferior mind." Athena finally said, letting out a great sigh, as if she was doing Annabeth a great favor. However, that made Annabeth bite her tongue—her mother was a goddess, an arrogant one, granted, but a goddess nonetheless. She would not like being talked back to._

_"Perseus is meant to be one of Rome's greatest leaders—like Odysseus great. But he is being held back by his own fears, by Octavius' influence on his mind. Which is where you come in—you will be there to guide him, _gently_, to see that everything he believes in is wrong. It will take many years, full of ups and downs, trust and betrayals, tears and laughter… but you will get there. Granted, he will cause a great empire to collapse, but another one will rise in its wake."_

_"Greece?" she asked softly, feeling a strange squeezing in her chest, but she wasn't particularly surprised. It was as if… some part of her knew about this. Athena nodded._

_"Do not despair. The fall of Greece has been foretold since the beginnings of time— Athens and Sparta have made the kingdom unstable."_

_Annabeth sighed and nodded. Athena pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing slightly and Annabeth stood up straighter._

_"I fear you will disappoint me and the Olympians," her tone was full of warning as she turned and walked back into the white mist, her skirts sweeping behind her with an elegance only royalty could manage. The mist started to descend on Annabeth, but she did not remove her eyes from the queen of wisdom._

_Sometimes, her life was utterly unfair. She never asked for this to happen. She didn't even want some kind of messed up destiny._

_But… she wanted to prove Athena wrong. Maybe it was her pride getting in the way, or her stubbornness, but she didn't like the way Athena had not given her a chance._

_Annabeth licked her lips and hardened her resolve._

_"I _will _prove you wrong."_

* * *

><p>With those words, Annabeth's eyes snapped open. Gray light leaked through the large window, making the shadows look longer than usual. Her limbs were stiff, too, though she was laying across something soft…<p>

_Where am I? _She wondered, pushing herself up carefully. Her arm felt like it was about to collapse on her, making her body crash down on the unusually soft surface. Actually, the last time she had been on a surface this so was nearly a year ago…

White. Annabeth was on something white—and soft. Very soft. And she wasn't outside, sleeping under the stars with the wind in her face and the grass prickling into her back. Oh, and rain. Can't forget the rain.

In fact, she was someone's chambers… not hers, of course—hers were a simple gray color with a dark blue as the accent color on one wall. In fact, it was rather strange… this room was a light blue… and there was soft, red wood on the ground… and there was someone on the daybed…

It all came back to Annabeth in a flood. How her father had announced she was going to be married to the Heir Apparent of Rome, since it was the will of the gods'. The seasons of travel, first by horse, then by boat and finally by foot. How she met Percy during that raid. Rome itself. Finding out just who Percy was. His wife… Heir Apparent…

How he didn't… _do _anything to her.

Annabeth fell back onto the fluffy white things where she had placed her head on. She suddenly felt very dizzy and maybe a little sick to her stomach as she remembered their conversation last night. _How_? Why? She knew he had to have another motive other than just wanting to get to know her better. After all, he was _Roman_…

Her mother's words from the dream last night resonated inside of her. Maybe Percy… really was… meant to be one of the forefathers of Rome. Maybe it was destiny. Or maybe it was something more…

Maybe she was wrong to hate Romans, even though they were the archenemy of Greece.

There was a loud creaking sound, even though it also sounded like it was slow—like the person behind it was trying not to make it creak. Annabeth jerked her head up, in time to see a scrawny looking boy come in.

Wait… he wasn't… not entirely…

"You're half donkey!" Annabeth yelped, "You're a satyr!"

The satyr's head jerked and his eyes rounded to the size of saucers. One of the logs tumbled off the top of the pile, as if in slow motion, but the satyr didn't even seem to register it.

"I'm half _goat_," he finally said in a sarcastic monotone, if that was possible. Too late, Annabeth remembered how much Gleeson hated being called half donkey—which she had been fond of when she was little…

"Sorry?" she offered. The satyr tilted his head, his face not revealing anything, but Annabeth got the feeling that he was trying to see if she meant what he had said. It wasn't the same intensity as Athena, but it still made Annabeth feel uncomfortable…

"It doesn't matter," the satyr muttered after a few tense heartbeats. He tilted his head and Annabeth studied the ground. When she looked back up, the satyr had started to pile the wood in the heath.

Half of it was gone now…

Almost all of it…

The silence was so thick Annabeth though she could shatter it by slicing a dagger through the air.

"I'm Annabeth." She said the first thing that popped into her mind. The satyr stiffened for a moment, his hands stilling as he placed the last log onto the heath, and then he released it slowly. Annabeth tilted her head as he took a flint from the side and struck it.

No flame.

"You speak to a slave like me?" the satyr finally asked, striking the flint again.

It felt like a bucket of ice had been poured down her back (unfortunately, she was speaking from experience—Luke thought it would be finally to see her shriek). "You're a slave?" Annabeth had no idea why she was so surprised, after all, Roma was _supposed _to have slaves. Maybe it was the idea of _Percy _having a slave…

The satyr smiled, "I'm one of the lucky ones." It was like he was stating a simple fact, "Most of the others have masters who are not even half as kind as Percy."

"Percy is kind?" Annabeth didn't mean for her tone to be so sharp, but the satyr looked at her reprovingly, like a parent scolding their child or an older sibling scolding his younger one.

"Have you not realized that already?"

"I suppose you have a point." She sighed, but she couldn't continue on her thought since she was distracted by a loud crackle and the fire caught.

"It's actually clean…" the satyr sounded shocked, and Annabeth jerked her head up. Her gaze swept the chambers—the spotless chambers. Her lips twitched up of their own accord.

"Yeah… they were a pigsty last night so I picked up a little."

The satyr turned to look at her with—where those _hearts _shining in his eyes? Annabeth tried to scoot away from him —she remembered Gleeson when he was on a sugar-hype, and this satyr looked remarkably similar to that— but the satyr only moved with her, somehow staying a respectful distance from her.

"I like you," his voice was quite serene, and that only added to the creepiness. "I've always thought that Percy makes a mess to make life harder for me—I mean really, every time I come in here, it's _always _a mess! And then you come in and it's perfectly clean—_thank you_! Will you marry me? My name is Grover!"

_…I think I'm still dreaming…_

"Grover," an amused, deep (but sleepy!) voice came from behind them, and Annabeth looked up on instinct. Percy stood above them. "I think you're scaring her. Plus, you're a day too late for your proposal…"

Grover pressed his lips down and his bottom one stuck out. "How are you already awake? I normally have to drag you out of your bed—and even then, I have to pour water on your head."

Percy rolled his eyes, a gesture Annabeth was rapidly becoming familiar with. "I could hear both of you yakking."

Okay, that wasn't right. "I am _not _that loud," Annabeth protested. He looked at her with an '_are you serious_'? face and cleared his throat.

"'_Oh my gods, you're half donkey!_'" He said in a high pitched voice, obviously doing a very bad imitation of her voice—and probably on purpose, too. Annabeth narrowed her eyes and stood. Percy didn't even have the courtesy to look nervous.

"I do _not _sound like that."

"Uh, yes you do."

"I can't recall a time I have _ever _used the expression, 'oh my gods'." That was technically a lie… but it wasn't like he had to know that.

"You just did," his lips were twitching, as if he was trying to resist the urge to smile. Annabeth growled and she took a violent step forward, fully preparing to take him by his tunic to—

"Oh gods, you're already having a lover's quarrel and you've only been married for a day."

"_What_?!" Annabeth swung around to gawp at the satyr, who had at some point stood up and cross his arms. She gestured between her and Percy frantically, almost slapping him in the face at some point. "We're not lovers!"

"We're not lovers!"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at Percy, who had said the same phrase as she did. There was only a split-second difference between their voices.

"You're not?" Another feminine voice spoke up, sounding surprised, and Annabeth jerked away from her glare at Percy and at her maidservant.

"Piper!"

Piper tilted her head, adjusting the tray as she closed the door behind her. She looked genuinely surprised, but her gaze was darting between Annabeth and Percy. Annabeth could just _see _the daughter of Aphrodite was thinking about something ridiculous…

"Of course not; we only just met!" Percy sounded a bit repulsed by the idea, and Annabeth had to bury her head in her hands when her ears suddenly felt hot. She could already _hear _Piper's incestuous response…

"I bet you wanted to though."

There were several splutters from Percy, either from embarrassment or indignation. Annabeth lifted her head when she felt like she had gotten the urge to blush under her control—

_Nope. It's back._

Piper was grinning _that _grin as she shifted the trays and handed Annabeth some bread—not cooked over the fire—and handed some to Percy as well. A part of Annabeth wondered where the _'I don't like Perseus the Heir Apparent of Roma_' had went on her friend.

There was a short knock and a tall blond stepped inside of the room. Annabeth quickly glanced at the window—the sun had only just started to come up.

When Annabeth looked back at the blond, she saw that he and Piper were staring at each other strangely. "Do I know you?" the blond asked after a moment.

Piper shook her head, "No." The man nodded slowly, as if he didn't fully believe her, then switched his gaze on Percy. It was like Annabeth didn't exist, at least for the moment, and she was happy to keep it that way.

"The Eastern patrol came back safe and sound, Percy. Oh, and Octavius requests your presence in the council today."

Percy let out a sigh that sounded relieved. "That's good… and tell pater I'll be there soon."

The man lips curled up into a grin, "That's not a response I would expect from someone on the day right after their wedding."

"Jason!"

Jason let out a laugh that sounded like a catcall while Annabeth stalked over to the desk and picked up the knife she had seen on it and marched back to Percy… the picture of dignity and grace—not embarrassment. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Percy looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Jason grinned and bowed first to her, then Percy, and then to Piper. Annabeth felt a vicious surge of evil-plotting-teasing-said-maidservant's-doom when she saw that her cheeks had turned a little pink.

"I'll see you soon, my lady."

Oh, this was _wonderful_.

"I'm not a lady!"

"Someone as pretty as you isn't a lady?" Jason sounded genuinely confused, and Piper became a stuttering mess.

Grover laughed behind her, but it didn't sound mean. Percy looked like a cat that had just caught a canary as he bit into the toast. Annabeth wasn't sure why—at the moment, she pretty much felt like she was about to die from embarrassment. Oh, and evil-cunning-blackmail-plans.

"I need to get something!" Grover suddenly yelped, and he began to trot to the door.

Piper nodded, "And I'll… erm, help you get them!" She peeked at Jason, who smiled at her. Annabeth felt unadultured glee at the blush that went on her face, especially after Jason smiled at her. It was… _ADORABLE _and she would _finally _be able to have revenge for all those times Piper teased her!

"Someone's happy," Percy quipped above her head, and she beamed at him. He looked at the door thoughtfully, where Piper, Jason and Grover had disappeared and scratched his chin. "I don't think he realized that he was flirting with her… or the fact that she blushed…"

"Really?" Annabeth asked, beginning a tiny dance around their room with a couple of high pitched, _girly _squeals.

"He's already courting Reyna," Percy sounded amused as he walked over to his—their?—dresser and started to rummage around in it, looking for something.

"That's even _better!_" Annabeth was sure her voice broke glass, but at the moment, she didn't care. Instead, she started waving her arms in the air and kicking out everywhere.

"Might I ask what's got you behaving like a lunatic? And careful about that dagger."

Annabeth scowled at him and threw the knife onto their bed. "I finally have blackmail material, and a chance for revenge."

"Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, he responded similarly as he pulled out a… toga? He ducked behind a screen and Annabeth sat down in front of the fire. Hopefully, Piper would think of getting her some clothes…

"I'm likely going to be in the council until the noon bell," Percy's tone was light and conversational. Annabeth figured he didn't need for her to encourage him. "You'll be fine without me?"

Annabeth almost smiled. "Percy, I'm an only child with a father who really doesn't care about what I do—I can take care of myself for a few hours."

"I'm sure you can," his voice was neutral. Annabeth paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask Percy about Octavius… but she didn't want to destroy what little trust they had in each other.

"Annabeth?" she looked over her shoulder to see Percy fiddling with a belt on his shoulder. "Do you know how to adjust armor?" he looked at with, not just pleading with his voice but his eyes as well—making an adorable seal-like expression.

Annabeth smiled and walked over to him carefully. She hesitated for a moment, then she took the strap he had been playing with and tightened it. For some reason, her throat was constricting and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Percy swallowed.

She bit her lip and then pulled the strap toward her, and then she threaded the metal thingy (which she still didn't know the name of) through the hole.

"Thanks," his voice was hoarse. Annabeth smiled at him, but stepped away quickly for some reason.

"No problem."

Percy tilted his head, and then a careful smile spread across his face.

It was a beautiful thing.

* * *

><p><strong>Review Response(s)<strong>

AgitatedDog9288: *snorts* Thanks for the lovely review! I really like your description of Octavian- though, granted, I'd probably just call him a big ball of crazy... nitwit... old fart... okay, "The Most Messed-Up Person in the Universe". Well, fine... so he's not _the _Most Messed-Up- ah, never mind. You know what I mean. . :)

It'smeeeee: Thank you for the review! :) I actually had to count the number of 'e's in it... LOL. Anyway, can I just say your review put tears in my eyes? I don't know why- I think it's the fact you consider this one of thewell-written stories. Whoa. O.O Never thought someone'd say that... And yeah, believe me, I _know _how hard it is to find well-written stories- believe me. I've been reading PJ fanfics on here for three or four years now (...and writing them... ignore the account, this is just a new one since I wanted a fresh start). Actually, I ended up making an archive (community?) for whenever I find a well-written one. :) And THANK YOU AGAIN! *dies* *snuggles* *smooches* I'll do my best to keep up the quality of the writing! :D Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! :DDDD :)

NoNumbersInMyUsername: Thanks for reviewing again! :) LOL, don't die! Although dying by laughter is probably the best way to die... unless you're being tortured magically... hmm... Oops. :3 I'm glad you liked the Idiot and My lord parts- I actually had to switch from Seaweed Brain to Idiot. . Eventually though... in about three chapters... but then Seaweed Brain is forgotten again... well, in my defense, Percy doesn't really act much like a Seaweed Brain, so she doesn't really have a reason to call him Seaweed Brain. Anyyyyywaaaay- Octavian. Just wait until later on. I have plans for him. x-) And Percy. And all of Rome in general. And Greece. You'll see. Eyes of a killer... hmmm... it may... at times... no... not really. He's more of a talker than a killer. A sociopathic talker. I don't care if there's no such word as sociopathic. I'm putting it in the dictionary. Yeah; I think the last wedding I've been to was several years ago, maybe five or six? So, even if I wasn't so young, I wouldn't remember all of it. . But thank goodness for the internet! And the library! :D And here's this chapter! I hope it was okay, since it's more of a fillery one anyway. . I hate filler chapters... they're torture to write... but I hope to update every Friday evening now, unless NaNoWriMo messes me up. I'm actually almost done with this book! Almost. The end is in sight... about ten chapters down the road... okay, so maybe not so close in sight. .

simrasimigirl: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you liked last chapter. :)

PiperGrace938: Thanks for reviewing! And, ohmigerd, you said please! *squeezes tightly* I think I almost cried! Most people don't say please (how rude!). :) And I'm glad you think my story is amazing! I personally think it's my best multi-chapter myself, so far. Then again, I'll probably change my mind again when I turn fifteen. . I said that about my Merlin story, and then my other Percy Jackson story, then- okay, shutting up.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I am currently doing NaNoWriMo for the first book of A Crown of Golden Leaves. I'm a little over half way finished (as far as I know) which means that my updates will be weekly, hopefully. I am also in the process of getting a beta, which means this'll be even better than before! :D


	6. Capvt V: What Should Be, Will Be

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>November 2014<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter I: <strong>A Chance Encounter**  
>Word Count: <strong>4,000+  
><strong>Rating: <strong>K+  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mild sexual references

* * *

><p><span>Capvt V: What Should Be, Will be<span>

**Perseus**  
><em>Spring, X176 BC<em>

* * *

><p>Percy was tempted to hit himself in the head with the book of battle history he was reading. Hard.<p>

But instead, he managed to place it down, _gently_, on the cushion next to him and stared at his pater. His pater was watching him carefully, as if he had sensed his exasperation. Percy was determined not to give him any excuse to use him again to do something bad… or Annabeth.

Percy hadn't realized it until _after _he had left his —no, _their_— room, but he was now responsible for her safety as well as his own. And eventually the Senate would want them to make babies…

Ergh. That actually kind of terrified him for some reason… and probably Annabeth as well. Maybe that was why she had been so shy last night, and it wasn't like he had helped ease her worries…

And he really needed to stop thinking of her. Especially if he got a dreamy look like Hazel said, then His pater would look at him weirdly…

Percy shook his head, stopping the thoughts right there. _No_. He did _not _get a dreamy look and his pater wouldn't look at him weirdly… like he was at that moment…

Oops?

He cleared his throat and leaned back into the cushion of the window. He might as well get comfortable: the Caesar didn't look like he was about to leave anytime soon. His pater sat down, his back leaning against the wall as he stared at Percy. That only made him uneasy. His pater always knew when he was hiding something, somehow, and Percy never liked it when he forced him to tell…

Then again, he _could_ just be a bad liar. Though if he was, then he would probably be dead by now…

Of course, his pater could just be a mind reader. Then that would give Percy an excuse to (attempt) to strangle him, although then the guards would probably arrest him. After that, depending on whether or not his pater was feeling merciful, he would either banish Percy, or execute him. And then Annabeth would be in danger…

"Are you entertaining thoughts of strangling me again, Perseus?" his slightly amused voice brought Percy back to reality. That, and his actual name. And the accusation.

_He _must _be a mind reader…_

Percy cleared his throat and shook his head. "No," he lied. He resisted the urge to smirk—that would tell the real story. "I'm not."

His pater raised an eyebrow, "Right."

Percy almost hit himself. But not with the book this time, with his hand. His pater would probably disprove… and if one of the servants or slaves (though no one would believe the latter) happened to walk down the hall at that moment… well, it would be Percy's fault if someone said the Heir Apparent was inducing self-harm upon himself.

"What are you here for?"

His pater frowned at him, "Is that how you greet your pater, Perseus?"

"Hello. Why are you here? I was reading a book."

"What book?"

Percy narrowed his eyes at him, but held it up for him to read the title. _Historia Romani Bellum Glorique._

"The History of Roman War and Glory," he read out loud, almost to himself. Percy fought down the urge to swallow the lump that suddenly rose in his throat back. Don't show weakness. Don't give him an excuse to lash out. His pater nodded slowly, his eyebrows joining together.

"Good book," his tone was flat. Percy almost smiled though, that was the closest he would get for his pater to compliment him. But he couldn't show any emotion. That would not be Roman, and he wanted him to be Roman. And a leader…

Percy's hands got sweaty and his stomach started to twist. He placed the book down next to him before it could get all gross and pressed his hands together to hide the shaking. He had no idea why he always felt this way when the thought, or idea, of being the Caesar was raised. Perhaps he really was a coward like his pater said he was…

"Thank you."

Any trace of kindness slipped out of his pater's face. A cold expression went on it instead, which made Percy want to curse at his back luck. Or maybe himself. He shouldn't have said that, but he had forgotten who he was talking to.

_"Don't thank people, you are the Heir Apparent Perseus, and it is beneath you_."

"How was the Greek last night?"

Percy frowned. What was he talking about? Annabeth was perfectly… oh. Percy's neck suddenly felt hot. He had forgotten about that. Well, kind of. The reason he _had _been reading in the first place was to forget about it…

He coughed, trying to get the images out of his head. "She was, very good."

Hades, he couldn't stop the heat from spreading into the cheeks. And now she had worn off on him a little. When did he say Hades? That was what Annabeth used that one time when he had first met…

Ugh.

His pater's lips twitched, much to Percy's surprise. That was the closest he had gotten to a smile from him his entire life. "You've never done it before?"

_Why, oh why, is he talking about this now?_

Percy knew he was lucky that humans couldn't melt. Otherwise he would be a puddle by now. "N-no." he stuttered, then wished he could smack himself for a third time. Why did he suddenly want to inflect self-harm again?

"You're way too honorable, Perseus." His pater's tone was slightly amused. Percy knew he was dying of laughter inside though. That made Percy angry.

"So what?" he grumbled and crossed his arms. Probably not very mature of him, but he couldn't help himself. And he had a feeling his pater would let this slide. "It's not like I _have _to do, that, to the first woman I see."

_Actually, I don't have to do that to _any _woman..._

His lips curled slightly. "Now you're just getting defensive, Perseus. There is no shame in this. Why, I remember in my youth I had at least five women by my side to…"

Percy quickly blocked his voice out. _Why_ _me_? He wondered, conquering up a mental image of himself sobbing his eyes out. It definitely helped.

"…and now I need twenty…"

Percy resisted the urge to cover his ears up.

"Okay," he interrupted before his pater could continue on. "I think I get it." he _looked _at Percy, which made him realize his wording. "I get it," he corrected.

For a moment, he thought his pater wouldn't let it slide, but he did. The Caesar's mask slipped back onto his face. "I expect an Heir by the end of next year."

Percy's mind went blank. He couldn't think for a moment. His heart seemed to stop pounding under his chest, that drumbeat he had always taken for granted. He couldn't see anything either. All he could hear was his pater's breathing. All he could smell was the wax on the hardwood.

_Breathe_, he reminded himself.

He heard a hiss, like air being released through teeth. Suddenly, Percy felt very lightheaded—like he was about to pass out. But that wouldn't be very manly, and his pater would suspect something was amiss. Not that he ever cared, unless it was for his own gain.

_Calm down, _he thought.

His pater was looking at him curiously. Percy nodded slowly, "Yessir."

He had no choice but to agree. He had to protect Annabeth… okay. So he had to protect himself. That lie was going to come back and bite him in the podex some day. Then again, _all _of those lies he had made throughout the years were going to come back and haunt him.

Percy _hated _lying. But he had no idea how to _not _lie. He couldn't tell the truth to him. He didn't want to be the Caesar. He didn't want to be the Heir Apparent. He didn't want a wife… but at least it was Annabeth and not some crazy old hag.

"An Ambassador from Upper Brittania will be here on the morrow."

Percy nodded slowly; he knew what that usually meant. And he hated them. Why anyone would find enjoyment out of something so sadistic was beyond him. They made him feel sick to his stomach… although there wasn't anything he could do about it. He had to stay safe.

"I thought Brittania was overrun by Saxons." He commented, sucking on the inside of his cheek.

"And how often is that proven false?"

"Good point."

His pater watched Percy with a weird expression. He almost would have said it was one of knowledge or thought, but that wasn't quite right. Whatever it was, it was worse than Reyna's glare and he had fight back the urge to shift. At least with her, she didn't care if he fidgeted under her gaze. In fact, Percy thought it brought her some sort of satisfaction for some reason.

"Are you going to participate in the Gladiators this round? I'm sure you can beat Morrigan."

Percy briefly entertained the thought of smacking burly Morrigan with the flat of his blade. He was no better than a playground bully… and what was worse was the fact he had been Percy's instructor when he was younger. Young Perseus had learned a hard lesson at a very young age: defend or be killed. Well, Morrigan thought it was kill or be killed, but Percy flat out refused to kill unless it was a monster.

That almost cost him his life a couple of times…

But Percy knew that he would be no better than a common animal if he participated in the Gladiators. If he did kill Morrigan, then he would have to kill the rest of the competitors until one of them killed him. And if he had to be the Caesar, he didn't want to be one who killed just for sport. That was just immoral.

Of course, he _had _entertained notions of swinging his sword and decapitating Morrigan's head from his body… along blood spraying all over the ground and him as it fell to the ground… just like monster dust.

"No, not this time," Percy shook his head. A feeling of dread rose in him when his pater frowned in his direction. He never had participated in them and in his eyes Percy knew he was unworthy of the crown. He probably was, seeing as he never had proved himself… all he was good for was fighting and (occasionally) stopping arguments between his father and an ambassador from another kingdom change into another war.

Honestly, it was a miracle Greece and Roma hadn't gone off to war by now… but then again, maybe that was something to do with the gods'. Mars and Minerva didn't want war. Or Juno. Possibly.

And there was that whole spectacular with Sparta a few years back…

"Perseus, I have been asking you this question for almost nine summers—ever since you were ten. You have to prove yourself to the people that you can fight."

Percy narrowed his eyes at his pater. "And why doesn't the thousands of monsters I kill count in proving myself?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Because the people can't see you— they want entertainment."

Percy spluttered when his pater rose and patted him on the shoulder. "Killing is _entertainment_?" he swung his head around. The older man turned around and sneered at Percy, his features twisting into something demonic and unearthly. Percy jerked his head to the side, but refused to back down.

"Your life is not the only one I hold now."

Percy stood up abruptly as something… something strange surged through him. He felt as if he _had _to stand his ground this time, otherwise... the strange feeling filled his heart and his mind so that his mouth moved before he caught up with his words. "Leave Annabeth out of this."

"And why should I? Do I need to remind you I am the Caesar, Perseus?"

His stomach clenched, but he couldn't back down. If he did, his pater would see him as week and who knows what'll happen to Annabeth then. "And Annabeth is my wife, Caesar." He stopped the urge to rub his jaw and made sure his arms hung by his sides. "If you kill her, then you won't have an heir… along with a war on your hands."

He narrowed his eyes at him. "You better watch your mouth, boy." His eyes flashed and Percy found all the courage had drained out of him.

But that didn't matter.

"No Caesar. If you execute the Princess of Greece, I won't hesitate to side myself with them. This marriage was _your _idea and I only went along with it because of the chance for peace between our countries."

Percy tucked the book under his arm and ground his teeth together.

"I will not hesitate to walk down that road if it comes to that."

His pater took a few steps forward, his movements quick and jerky at the same time and raised his hand. Percy didn't flinch. But he didn't turn his face either.

"What about Roma, then, Perseus?"

Percy blinked and all the bravado drained out of him. Oh. He should've thought of the people before speaking out. And now his pater was going to hit him. Wonderful.

Octavius' eyes were still slits and his face was contorted. Percy wasn't sure if he was sneering at him anymore though. "That princess is already wearing off on you, isn't she Perseus?"

Percy averted his eyes. So what if Annabeth had?

A cold hand gripped his chin and jerked it up. Percy stared into icy blue eyes, trying to understand what was behind them. There was a shadow, but he didn't know what it was. He had always thought his pater was kind of funny looking, but as he grew older, Percy had started to fear him. Not only did he have a way with words, but he got angry easily.

"If you _ever _speak out like this again, it will be ten lashes."

And then he let go of his chin and walked away.

~…~

"It looks like an arena…"

"It's a coliseum."

"And you kill for sport?"

"Not all of us like it."

"Like you?"

"Maybe."

"Are you Romans sane?"

"I've had my doubts."

Annabeth looked like she was about to break out in laughter, but she squashed down, quite masterfully for a novice. She was only smiling a little, although her eyes reflected her laughter. Percy found that kind of refreshing, everyone he knew wore some kind of mask.

He shook the thoughts out of his head and held his hand out to her. She stared at with round eyes, as if she wasn't sure about what she was supposed to do. Slowly, her hand snaked out and wrapped around his arm and he wasn't sure if he should feel sad or happy about that fact. At least she didn't _hate _him. Yet.

He really needed to stop being so pessimistic.

Her gray eyes (they reminded him so much of storm clouds for some reason) darted from one place to the next, like she was waiting for something to happen. He had to admire the sheer intensity of her gaze—maybe he would be able to teach her how to read and maybe even write a little. She mentioned not knowing how to do either earlier, which honestly shocked him. Not only was she the princess, but she was intelligent. Where the Greeks barbarians?

"Where are we going?" her voice pierced through his thoughts like a dagger, startling him back into reality. He looked at her, but she was staring ahead. Her eyebrows had furrowed together and she was frowning. He averted his gaze quickly, just in time to see two kids run across the street. They grinned at him and he gave a small smile back at them.

"We're going to the Gladiators." He said, turning back to Annabeth. She nodded slowly, her eyes flashing with some strange emotion. Percy almost asked what it was, but decided against it. She seemed a little temperamental and he very much liked having women on his good side.

Mood swings were scary.

"Gladiators… the murderers?"

Percy almost winced at her tone. She _clearly _disapproved of the Gladiator Games, and it was clear with her blunt way she addressed them. "Yeah, just don't say it when anyone can hear you." He lowered his voice so that only she could hear it, in case one of the Caesar's spies was following them. "And stay away from Morrigan if you can."

"Who's Morrigan?" she asked, looking at Percy with an inquisitive expression. Percy almost smacked himself. Again. Why did he keep having the urge to hit himself? As far as he was aware, that hadn't happened since he was a child.

"Burly brute," he muttered, shaking his head viciously to clear his thoughts. "Has yellow teeth—a few are broken. Crocked too. Scary blue eyes—it's like they pierce and see through your soul." He explained, not caring if he sounded disjointed. "He was my master for a little while too, before Chiron."

Annabeth tilted her head, "Master?"

Percy nodded, attempting to look wise. "Instructor—swords instructor. But then Chiron came around and took over—ended up teaching me more than just swordplay." He smiled slightly, remembering his crippled mentor. When Percy had been younger, he thought Chiron was someone from the gods' who had come to rescue him. Unfortunately, that never happened. His pater had figured out what he was teaching and exiled him, much to Percy's horror. But he still remembered those last moments with Chiron… and he still clung onto his teachings.

"I thought Romans don't _like _Centaurs…"

Percy glanced at Annabeth in confusion, "Centaurs?" he wrinkled his nose. "We don't."

Annabeth looked at the ground, her eyebrows joining together as she scowled pensively at the ground. "But…" she shook her head, "Never mind."

Percy was tempted to ask what she meant, but decided against it. If she saw fit to tell him, she would. Until then, however, he would just have to wait.

He tapped her elbow and jerked his head toward the stairs that led up into the coliseum. "We better get up there—the Caesar doesn't like it when we're tardy"

She made a face. "No offense, Percy, but your father sounds horrid."

Percy almost laughed. "None taken."

* * *

><p>Percy nodded at his pater and to the ambassador (his name was Artorius) in greeting, carefully keeping his face blank. Annabeth stiffened next to him, but she didn't verbally insult the Caesar—which he was impressed about. That was an accomplishment, for her at least. It was obvious she wasn't used to keeping her mouth shut. Not that Percy blamed her. Of course not.<p>

He pinched himself mentally. He had to quit thinking while he was around his pater.

"Pater, Ambassador." He acknowledged, keeping all emotions out of his voice. He tightened his grip around Annabeth's arm, just to remind himself he wasn't alone. Not anymore.

He wasn't sure what was worse—being or not being alone. At least he was the only one being endangered.

"Perseus," his pater nodded his head.

"Caesar," Annabeth's quiet but polite voice interrupted. She nodded her head, with a carefully crafted blank face. It was only through years of practice that made Percy able to hide his glee at his pater's expression. He looked like he had been slapped across the face with a fish—a smelly fish too.

Annabeth turned to the Ambassador and smiled slightly, "Ambassador."

Artorius smiled back at her, and Percy noticed that his shoulders weren't as tense. Hmm. "Princess," he returned, his voice pleasant. For some odd reason, Percy didn't like it… especially when Annabeth straightened her back. Odd.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a man maybe a couple of years younger than he himself standing in the shadows. Those dark eyes (they reminded him of a starless night) seemed to bore into his own, like he blamed Percy for doing something. What it was, however, Percy had no idea. As far as he was aware, he hadn't done anything to upset anyone… except for maybe Saturn. Or the sea god—Neptune.

Percy shoved that thought to the back of his mind. No, no way in Hades would he think of him. Not after that time when his mother disappeared when she went off to sea.

The mysterious figure moved out of the shadows and into the sunlight. So smoothly, in fact, Percy didn't realize it until his pale skin was illuminated by the sunlight. Did he even get outdoors?

"…Greece?"

Percy bit back curse when he realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts. Again. Quickly, he focused in on Annabeth and Artorius, both of whom were chatting happily while his pater watched them with an expression that sent shivers down Percy's spine.

"Yes," Annabeth's expression was warm, but guarded. Percy wished he could pull that off. "I was from Greece, but I moved here a few moons ago."

Percy was all ears. She had barely been there for seven sunrises, let alone moons. She must've been a diplomat to some degree back in Greece, if she had the sense not to say they were recently married.

"I see. Well, the best of luck to the two of you." He looked at Percy while saying this, and he nodded. He smiled slightly, barely more than a twitch of his lips, but Artorius returned it.

Percy dropped his hand from her arm to the small of her back and guided her to the chairs seated on the right side of his pater's throne. She shot him a look he couldn't read. Perhaps she was trying to commute, "why in Hades are you taking me away?"

Percy didn't answer her as he helped her sit down (though she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself). His pater sat himself down on his throne as well—if Percy didn't know better, he would've said he was lounging—leaving only Percy, the ambassador and one other seat. Percy took his place on his pater's right and Annabeth's left, noticing she had crossed her legs and had leaned back into the throne, looking very much like the royalty she was supposed to, with that crown in her hair and that toga.

Well, almost.

Percy leaned over and whispered, "If you want to complete The Look, you should put your elbow on your armrest and prop your chin in it."

She smiled at him, although her eyes darkened and swirled. She had to be a demigod—no mortal had eyes like that. Perhaps Bellona? "What if I don't want to complete The Look?"

Percy leaned away from her and into his chair, blinking. She smirked and he realized what just happened. He had just been played.

_Cunning. Smart too. Perhaps… no. Not her—that's impossible._

Percy took a couple of deep breaths, forcing his body to appear relaxed. A bad, but familiar, feeling was beginning to form in his stomach, mixed with that tightening of his chest and a suspicion that things were about to go downhill.

Percy glanced back at his pater, who looked smug. He refrained from rolling his eyes, instead, letting his gaze travel around his surroundings. Never hurt to be aware of the people surrounding him.

Several lords and ladies, many of which he didn't recognize, sat in the stands below them and off to the sides. A young girl was among them, light hair (it looked blond and brown and maybe a little red) glinting in the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes looked like gold, but liquefied and melted down—a little like Hazel's. But more bright somehow. Maybe she never saw a Gladiator Game before. Percy felt sad she ever had to witness one.

"Ah, Morrigan. We can finally start."

Percy's head whipped around at the familiar name, and he didn't bother to hide the way his heart began to beat faster or the urge to make himself as small as possible.

Almost everyone knew of Morrigan. Almost everyone feared Morrigan. No one had the misfortune to have been his pupil though.

Yellow, crocket teeth barred together in what Percy assumed was a grin.

"Sorry I'm late, Caesar." He didn't sound very sorry. "I had some unfinished business to attend to."

The man turned to Percy with a nasty expression—perhaps a leer? "Well, I see you got yourself a little lady, Heir Apparent. It's about time you did. And she's a looker at that."

Percy lifted his chin somewhat as he leaned back into his chair and took Annabeth's hand in his. He wasn't sure if it was to calm her down or himself.

"Welcome back, Morrigan."

He sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>Review Responses<strong>

Ohmygosh, thank you so, so much for eight reviews in only one update! I've never gotten that many before- the most was four or five. *sparkly eyes* *blows kisses*

hurryup: Well, that's just rude. I'm already updating once a week, which is pretty quick for most people- especially for the length of the chapters. And I do have a life outside of FanFiction. . But thank you, I guess, since you're insisting I update quicker.

PiperGrace938: Thanks for reviewing! :D And you're sweet too. :) Annabeth isn't unintelligent, though it may seem that way- it was never my intention to make her unintelligent (actually, she's very smart- perhaps a little smarter now than she was in the actual series...). She's actually only slightly naive, which makes her seem childish at times. And hasn't learned how to hold her tongue. Yet. As for Percabeth, just wait. x) They won't be kissing- _yet_- but there will be moments in the next two or three chapters... and then the ones after that, and the ones after that... ehe... :3

Daethar4U-Pyrodas: Thank you for the review! And, aww, thank you so much! I hope I can continue to live up to your opinion- no pressure there. :3 But I'll do my best. :)

NoNumbersInMyUsername: I'm saying thank you again, and you're welcome for responding the last time. xD I'm really beginning to think I should PM you... you seem nice... *musing* Okay, okay. Yaaay! You didn't die... yet. O.o *glances at later chapter and cringes* Yeaaaah... _I _haven't died, yet. Wait, you did almost die, because you were teasing your best friend about a crush? ...I get the feeling we'll get along charmingly. My best friend and sister are constantly trying to kill me and each other for one reason or another- thus, the reason why I'm not dead yet because I need to be the peacekeeper between those two. . Oh, my, gosh- you gave invitations to your friends to their fake wedding? xDDD You'd get along just fine with my sister then. That's so mean! x3 I like my version of Athena, but I like my version of Annabeth's father and stepmother even more... what can I say? *sheepish expression* It's fun writing Annabeth and King Fredrick- they're both stubborn and don't know how to show their emotions properly. What's not to like? And that Jasper interaction will cause trouble later on... mostly because- *slaps hand over mouth*. And Grover's going to play a big part... well, was. . I'm going to have _sooo _much editing to do once NaNoWriMo is over. LOL, I hope you liked this chapter as well. I ended up combining two together, since they were short chapters anyway- like, less than 2000 words short. The dream was something I added after I edited it, actually... it's very important to the plot. *coughs*conflict*coughs* Well, conflict... *looks at list of internal and external conflict* *winces* Yeeeah. I'm good on conflict. Sociopath is a word *facepalm* I meant Sociopathic, or whatever I wrote- that's not a word. :3 And yeah- I'm doing NaNo. Ugh... *dies* *looks at word count* *pops back up and starts typing again* I can see the ned of this part/book... sort of. It's about 10 to 20 chapters down the line... which makes it anywhere from 30 to 40 chapters long, not even including all the scenes I'll need to add in on the edit... oopsies. But yeah, it's a lot of fun- and dead helpful. I was stuck on chapter 8 when I posted this, back in October, now I'm at 21. Or 22... And thanks! I'll need it! Oh, and no- it's not pushy at all. Or demanding- it's actually really nice. I honestly detest it when people write only "update" without a comment, or write it 500 times, unless it's a joke. Then I'm fine. Though I may be evil and kill off your favorite character... if they're in the middle of a war. Actually, I kill off your favorite character whether you pull a practical joke on me or not... *sheepish* ...I really have a problem on rambling replies, don't I? o.O

FandomsAreMyLife4Ever: Aw, thank you for the review! :) And I'm glad you think so. :)

simrasimigirl: Thanks! :D And I'm glad you loved it. :) And I'm going to try to keep up with weekly updates- I think I can do it. Wait, you waited a long time for last chapter? *confused* But it couldn't have been more than 10 days...? But I'm glad you think it's worth it. :) I really hate it when writer's leave people hanging on their story for months at a time- especially if it's a cliffhanger. :3

Guest: Aw, thanks! And yeah, I updated! And thanks for saying please! But, uhhh... what does "Crear" mean? Is this an English slang? Because I'm not very good at slang... I feel like I should know what "Crear" means... . :3


	7. Capvt VI: Something More (Part I)

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>November 2014<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: <strong>Something More (Part I)  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>3,500+  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T-  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Violence

* * *

><p><span>Capvt VIII: Something More<span>

**Perseus**  
><em>Spring X175 BC<em>

* * *

><p>Percy listened to the announcements with only one ear. The other was on the conversations around him—mostly between Octavius, Morrigan and Artorius. It was mostly small, boring talk. "How was the weather back in England?" "Do you like Roma?" Stuff like that. But once, Octavius asked which route Artorius was going to use to get back to England. Percy wasn't sure why, but a bad feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach. Octavius had asked the same question once a few years back, when an ambassador and his son had come over from China. Percy ended up becoming friends with Wang Fei* during that long visit; and they had promised to keep in touch with ink and parchment.<p>

Fei never replied.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Annabeth shot him a weird look but he ignored it skillfully. He would never understand why the Chinese kid never replied. Maybe he only pretended to be Percy's friend and forgot about him when he got home? That certainly happened a lot when he was younger.

But Fei never had the same air around him like those others did, like he was trying to get to Percy because of his title. As if he did want to be his friend. He never, not once, radiated that same superiority that made Percy feel uncomfortable around the other princes and lords.

He wasn't even counting the ladies that had swamped him after Rachel died….

Percy tightened his hold around Annabeth's hand and felt a stab of gratitude. He really was lucky she hadn't been like the rest of those ladies. There was that spark of intelligence in her eyes that was missing from the others, and even though she didn't know how to read or write, Percy could tell that she wanted to. Even if it was on a subconscious level.

Maybe that was why he felt that spark of attraction, that day when he had met her…? Although, it certainly felt stronger now than when he first met Rachel when that ship had docked. It was a lot stronger, actually. It had almost felt like lightning had struck his body.

Not, of course, that he would know what that felt like…

"Percy, your father is talking to you." Annabeth's voice hissed in Percy's ear. He jumped and looked at his pater.

"Uh… what?"

Octavius looked like he was struggling with the urge to wring Percy's neck, but he took a few deep breaths, as if he was composing himself, and released them with a gusty sigh.

"The Gladiator Games are beginning, Perseus. I would _suggest_ you watch them and analyze their weaknesses."

The way Octavius said _suggest _implied it was an order. Percy nodded automatically and sighed as his pater turned away. Annabeth looked at him, her eyebrows furrowing together into a single line, but he ignored her and switched his gaze on the arena. The crowd was cheering, stomping their feet and clapping their hands, making a '_thump thump boom' _sound.

Percy didn't join in; he never had. Thank the gods it wasn't considered proper for the royals to join in.

The crowd eventually went silent as the slaves were led into the arena, all in shackles and rags. Percy leaned forward despite himself, searching their pitiful faces. Their faces and arms were smudged with dirt, and there was terror written all over their features, along with hopelessness.

Percy almost felt disappointed. Not this game then. There wouldn't be a lone survivor like what happened all those years ago with the Cyclops named Tyson. He still remembered that spark of defiance in that big brown calf eye.

_"Why do you not fight Octavius?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I know you don't like this, massacre. This slaughter of innocents. So why do you not speak out, Perseus?"_

Percy knew the answer, it was as bright as day. He was coward.

His gaze landed on a small, dark haired girl. She was obviously the shortest of the bunch, and her hair hung in her eyes and there was a frown on her face, but there was something about her stance… something that wasn't quite the same as the other slaves.

"Welcome," Octavius' booming voice echoed throughout the stands somehow. Percy often wondered how he made his voice amplified like that. "To the 105th Gladiator Games."

There were cheers, screams, whistles, hoots and applause at this. Percy carefully kept his face blank as he glanced at the civilians. They only joined in with applause. That didn't surprise him—they always did that, although there were always a few exceptions. He saw a rather round man whistling and stomping his feet, and a woman with a horse-like face howl in delight.

He quickly averted his eyes when he saw her tongue stick out and lick her blood red lips. He focused back on the Arena as the Gladiators came in, about ten of them against fifty slaves. It showed how confident they were about how they would not be able to be beaten. And Percy recognized a few of the gladiators. He had grown up with Connor and Dakota.

The various sounds of appreciation died down and Octavius' gaze swept the Coliseum. Percy tilted his head as the dark haired girl lifted her head and tossed her bangs out of her eyes. That was not a gesture made by someone who had given up….

He placed his hands on the armrest to the chair, curiosity sparked. It wasn't very often he got interested in something.

"I'd like to formally welcome Ambassador Artorius of Great Brittan to Roma," he announced, his voice grave. There was some scattering applause, but it wasn't quite as impressive as the amount shown for when the Gladiators came in. Artorius bowed his head with a smile on his face.

Octavius smiled, but it looked more like a leer to Percy. "I shall not keep you waiting any longer. Let the Gladiators begin!"

The noise was deafening. If Percy thought their joy was loud before, then this broke the sound waves. Annabeth flinched next to him, as if she was taken by surprise by the noise and Percy flashed her a quick smile that was meant to be reassuring. He wasn't sure if it had the right affect on her though: her eyebrows drew together into a small frown and her eyes narrowed somewhat.

Percy looked back at the ground. The slaves were jumping up on the rocks, pressing their backs against the gray stone as the Gladiators walked closer to them slowly. They all knew that there was no way for the slaves to survive.

Except… that girl, the one Percy had seen earlier, was inching around the rocks. She didn't look remotely scared, or even worried. She stuck to the shadows, and her face had a mask of utter calm on it—almost, as if she had been trained by someone….

And that face looked familiar for some reason….

Then, suddenly, the Gladiators moved forward. Their pace seemed to change in the blink of an eye. One moment they were lax, arrogantly so, and then the next they were like vipers slithering out of their nests.

They raised their lances as the screams rose from the slaves. Percy could see a few tearstained faces, and even the girl's face flashed with terror for split second before turning back into that mask of perfect calm. He wondered how she did it. Even _he _wouldn't be able to stay that composed if ten Gladiators charged up on him, screaming for bloody murder….

Time seemed to slow down, or stand still at the very least. Percy's train of thoughts were cut off as he stared down at the Arena. The Gladiators lowered their lances and positioned them over their shoulders, obviously preparing to throw.

_In, out. One, two._

_Right foot, left foot._

_They're the slaves, their lives are worthless._

_In, out. In, out._

The javelins fly out of the grasp, like long arrows, and Percy quickly averted his eyes to Annabeth's face. Hers are wide open, bright with tears and full of shock. Her body was tense, and she clenched his hand almost to the point it was painful.

Percy switched his gaze back onto the arena and gagged.

About half of the slaves had been mauled—either their heads were lolling about and their bodies twitching like a lizard's tail when it is pulled off, or gorged with blood pouring out of their chests. The gray boulders are stained were a dark substance—blood. And Percy knew instantly it wouldn't come out.

There were a few lone survivors though, and the girl he had noticed earlier was among them.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me," Percy muttered, not looking down at where the bloodbath had just happened. Not at where the slaves had exited for the moment. Not at Annabeth or at Octavius. He fixed his eyes on the ground and pushed himself up.<p>

He quickly fled from the top pavilion and let his feet guide him.

_Screams._

_Fire._

_The executioner, holding an axe over a crying woman's neck._

_A body, beheaded. Twitching as shocks ran through it._

_Blood._

Percy gagged again and kicked his sandals off his feet, for once not caring if they got cut in the process. The streets of Rome were deserted, presumably because of the Games. Percy swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and veered off to the right.

_The sea, crashing against their boat, causing it to pitch and hurl._

_A smile, and clear blue eyes._

_A set of gray eyes._

_More screams. A town up in flames and someone crying next to him._

Something soft and warm was sifting through his toes. It felt like salt almost. Percy could hear the thunder of a waterfall and he opened his eyes. When had he closed them?

There was a pool right in front of him, sparkling white and blue in the sunlight. A waterfall emptied into it, its white rapids plunging down and down into the water.

Percy sighed and let his feet shift closer to the water's edge. He crossed his arms as he let it lap up against his feet, even though there _clearly _shouldn't be some kind of tide.

_"Will we ever see Daddy again, mommy?"_

_"I don't know, Percy."_

Percy sighed as he ran his hand over his face and took another step into the pool. The water was now up to his ankles. He never did understood why he had voices in his head. At times, it almost like he had a past life. But, as far as he knew, he lived with Octavius all his life, and his mother died out at sea, when she was coming back from a mission in Sparta.

He took a couple more steps out into the water.

How could Octavius do this? How could he _stand _those bloodbaths? It was horrible! It was barbaric. The people fighting were just captured slaves. So what if they had no worth to the kingdom? So what if they could turn on them?

But then again, the Gladiators had been going on for so long that it would probably never change. And Percy himself would end up hosting them. Maybe he would eventually turn into his pater. He could still remember stories the people would tell him about this just man who tried to do what was best for the kingdom, back when he was still a boy.

"I thought you hated Poseidon, Percy."

Percy spun around in the waist-high water, only to meet Annabeth's gaze. He blinked.

"Where did you come from?"

Her lips twitched, though her eyes were darker than usual. "I followed you, of course."

Percy could tell she was resisting the urge to call him something along the lines of 'idiot'. He frowned and crossed his arms, if only to hide the fact that he was slightly impressed.

"What if I was running off into the woods?"

She stuck her tongue out at him and lifted her arms up toward the sky. "Ah, but I doubt you would do that. You're a rational person."

A strand of her blond hair fell down over her shoulders, and then another. Percy smirked. "Now, how do you know that, Annabeth? For all you know, I could be a psychopath hiding under the guise of a rational man."

She stepped into the water, but didn't betray any sign of humor. "You're right."

"I am?" Percy hadn't expected to win an argument against her so easily.

"But you're not, are you?" she cocked her head and a smile formed on her face. Percy stared at her, and she looked away. "So, those were the Gladiators, huh?"

Percy ran a hand across his face, sighed, and nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Yeah."

Her eyebrows furrowed together into a frown, and Percy barely had enough time to think: _uh-oh, _before she was talking again. "They're horrible. Your father is a psychopath."

He frowned at her, "Watch what you're saying, Annabeth. He _is _my pater…" he reminded her. "But yeah, I definitely don't agree with him on some things."

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

Percy shrugged, watching as one pale foot stepped deeper into the pool, and then another. She wasn't wearing shoes again. "I can't do anything about it."

"Can't, or _won't_?"

Percy looked away from her and kicked at the water. He watched as the spray leapt into the air, way taller than it should have for the amount of power he put into his kick.

"You don't understand what it's like, Annabeth. I've tried to make him proud of me, _so many times_, but it's never good enough. _Never_. Every single time, he just gives me that disappointed glower, as if I've done something wrong. But one day, I know I'll do something to get even just a shard of affection from him. He's not entirely heartless…" He _can't _be entirely heartless.

"That doesn't matter, Percy. Sometimes…" she paused and looked at the water, her eyebrows furrowing together. "Sometimes you just got to do what is right and damn the consequences."

Percy tilted his head, "You're smarter than you let on." He remarked. She raised an eyebrow, and then a smile played at her lips. She took another step closer to him, and then another, and another.

She was standing right in front of him, and Percy could count all the freckles on her face, if he wanted.

"And you're a lot stupider than I thought you were originally." He smiled, not in the least bit insulted since he was used to Reyna taunting him. He stuck his tongue out a little, and her face exploded into a grin. "Childish, too."

"Wise Girl."

She rolled her eyes, but it didn't really have the desired effect, since she was grinning. "Is that the best you can do, Seaweed Brain?"

Percy rolled his eyes and, before he thought about it, he swung his arm across his shoulders like he used to do with Rachel. She didn't seem to mind. "Nah, I wasn't trying to insult you."

She laughed under her breath, before sobering. "Will you talk to her?"

"I don't know."

"You should."

Percy felt a surge of frustration and he pulled away from her. He narrowed his eyes and she looked straight back at him, her plump lips in a hard line and her stunning eyes were like storm clouds swelling with thunder and rain and lightning. She _had _to be a demigod…

"I'm scared, alright?" he said, and she flinched. Percy realized his tone had come out sharper than he had intended. Not only that, but she wasn't used to his personality yet either. He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry," he muttered, but he didn't feel very sorry.

Her features softened. "It's alright to be scared, Percy. All that matters is that you don't give into that fear… I know you're no coward."

She turned away from him and walked out of the pool. Percy closed his eyes.

_You don't know that._

He opened his eyes and watched as she took the bottom of the white toga and wringed some of the water out of it. She looked up and smiled at him, before focusing on her task again.

"If you're going to talk to her, I suggest doing it sooner rather than later. Octavius didn't say how long the break will be, and I reckon we've been talking for a good amount of time." She took her crown off the gray rock, and placed it back in her hair, though it was slightly lopsided. Percy almost smiled as he followed in her footsteps.

"Here, let me help you with that."

She nodded, not revealing any discomfort or uneasiness, though Percy was beginning to realize that she had a mask that was just as good as his, if not more so.

So, he smiled at her slightly, more to reassure her than anything, and deftly began to weave her hair back into the crown the way it had been before, remembering a happier time when he used to weave flowers into long red hair, back when he had been a child….

"You've done this before." Her voice was quiet. Percy faltered for a moment, before he continued, despite the way his eyes stung and his heart did that painful little twinge every time he thought of her.

"I had a friend," he admitted. "She loved having flowers in her hair, but her maids wouldn't do it for her, and she couldn't do it herself, so she taught me how."

"You sound close…"

Percy peeked at her face, and his smile widened at the expression she was making. "You're jealous!"

Annabeth's face twisted both up and down at the same time, if that was even possible. "Of course I'm not."

"Oh yes you are."

Her eyes narrowed, and Percy held his hands up, before getting back to work on her hair. "Anyway, don't worry about it. That was a long time ago, and any feelings I might have had for her died with her."

_Liar, _a little voice in the back of his head whispered.

"It doesn't seem like they have…" she said quietly, and Percy stopped. "I saw you were tearing up just a moment ago. Like you said, I'm not stupid."

Percy sighed slightly and closed his eyes. "No, I guess not. I loved her, and I probably still do."

"Then why aren't you married to her?"

He wiped at his face with the back of his left hand, just in case. "She was murdered a week before we got married."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was soft. Percy shook his head and opened his eyes, weaving her hair back into the crown again. He tried to ignore the way his fingers were shaking.

"Don't be, it's not like it's your fault."

They were silent for a long moment, and then he said, "You actually remind me a little of her."

It was strange, actually. How easily talking of Rachel came to him, when it was just Annabeth listening. When it was Reyna or Jason or Frank or Hazel, or even his pater—_especially _his pater—he always tried to shied away from the subject as much as possible. When it was with Annabeth, it just felt… weird. Almost as if a burden was growing lighter.

"I do?"

He nodded, "You've got the same sense of compassion as Rachel did."

She tilted her head, but a small smile played at her lips. "Compassion? Me?" Percy nodded, attempting to look wise. She burst into giggles so, he figured that was a failed attempt, and smiled at her ruefully. "Is… was Rachel her name?"

Percy sobered. "Yes."

She cast her gaze at the ground, "It's a pretty name."

He bit his bottom lip to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I'm going to have to warn you- I won't be updating next Friday due to Thanksgiving. I'm really sorry, but I was barely able to update today, and it's only my grandparents in town this week.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

Claudia Donavan: Aw, thank you for reviewing! And I'm glad you think they're cute, and uh... Percabeth may have already started. :3

PiperGrace938: Thanks for reviewing again! :D Anyway, all the Percabeth 'moments' will be small, but I believe that it's the small gestures that matter. As for Jasper, I really can't promise anything. The main focus of this is Percabeth and how they grow up, but I'm currently writing in Jason's POV (all part of the plot, otherwise I wouldn't have) so maybe I'll be able to fit in a tiny bit of Jasper. I'm not sure though. :)

Shinny Star: Can I just say I love your penname? Seriously, I do. And thank you for reviewing! I hope I can keep it getting better and better. :) I'll do my best. :3

dance4ever95: Thanks for the review! :D LOL, this is actually a part of my school curriculum—I'm home schooled, you see—so I've actually been doing a mixture of English, History and Literature with this assignment. :3 But yeah, the Ancient Greeks and Romans are fascinating—you'd be surprised by how much the American culture is based off of them. Well, what the founding Fathers had in mind 400 years ago. . But that's a discussion probably best left alone through reviews, since I don't really want to offend anyone…

Guest/NoNumbersInMyUsername: *chokes on laughter* Don't worry about it—I've posted reviews in Guest mode before, mostly because I didn't want to log in. :3 But thanks for the double review! xD x) Okay, okay… Yeah, schoolwork… . Who knew 10th/11th grade Math is so hard? Well, it's not _that _hard, actually, it's pretty easy. I wish my mother didn't hold me back 2 years ago, then I'd probably be in 11th grade by now… but, eh, Trig and Pre-Calc can come when I finish Algebra 2 in January—and now I'm rambling. Again. *stares at Dark Side* There's no way your dark side is as mean as mine. *sheepish expression* I'm really, _really _mean to Jason, and Percy, and Annabeth… You even made couple names!? *cackles* That's brilliant! I did that to my friend once, with another friend of mine. She wouldn't talk to me for a week though, and we were Tennis partners… . Oooh, tell me the lyrics of this parody. *evil expression* I may end up using it somewhere in here… when Grover's being particularly evil… Eh, my best friend and sister don't get along particularly well since there's about 6 years difference between them, and since I'm the only somewhat mature one out of the three of us (…there's something wrong about that sentence, since she's a year older than me…) _I'm _the one who has to stop them from saying something they'll regret later on. Well, more like my little sister… actually, she's not so little anymore. :( She's as tall as I am… in fact, she'll be taller by the time I turn 15. . And it's no problem! x)

Simrasimigirl: *grins* Thanks! And I'm glad. I'll do my best to keep updating weekly, but I may fail at that sometime in Feburary (testing…). And, of course, there's always those pleasant surprises RL throws at you. Aww, yeah—I know the feeling. There's this _amazing _Caleo story called "Firsts" that I just started reading and now I'm at the end of it, and I'm like… _why do I keep doing this to myself? _Hehe. And yeah, writers that leave you hanging for months… I understand if they're a natural slow updater because of work and school, but if they're just being lazy then I don't like it. At all. . Especially after a cliffhanger. Persue? I believe you mean _encourage_, right? I don't think every three days is a good idea, especially if the person writes long chapters. ;) And I'm glad you loved, loved, loved it! :D Always. :) Oooh, Always and Forever… hmmm…

Guest: Thank you! :D

00-WisE-GirL-00: Whoa… O.O That's one of the nicest reviews I've ever gotten. :') Thank you! :D Really? This is the best Percabeth AU you've ever read? *surprised* There's a _lot _of good ones out there—you just need to know where to look… like, uh… I'm thinking. Wait, all the good stories I know about don't focus entirely on Percabeth… hmmm… . I'll think of one… like… wait, no, These Mountains That Divide Us isn't Percabeth… LOL, don't worry about it—I'm _horrible _at reviewing. Seriously. I probably review once out of every hundred stories I read. . I ship Percabeth loads (well, why am I writing this fic if I didn't?), but I also ship Percy/Bianca… and Percy/Reyna… and Percy/Rachel… Ehehe? Ooops? I don't think HoO is finished, well, it is, but I think we'll hear from Percy Jackson again—Riordan just left too much unexplained in BoO that there's no way he won't at least make a sequel to it. . Aww, I'm glad I can brighten your day! :) And I'll always do my best to brighten it for you every Friday evening. :3 And thank you, I've worked very hard at making English something I'm good at. :) Don't worry—ACoGL will _always _focus on Percy and Annabeth's relationship and how their individual characters grow. :) Jason's POV does pop up later on, but that's only due to the plot (gack, I hate switching POVs so much…). However, there won't be much in the way of romance, simply because he's, uh… busy with other things at the time… So yeah, it'll only stay Percabeth romance.  
>Oooh, thank you! Most of the Percabeth moments are subtle (or maybe not… it depeneds on the way you look at it), but that's because I believe you fall in love with the little things. Kissing, giving flowers, going out on dates, holding hands… that's very good and all (unless you're not a touche feely kind of person), but <em>everyone <em>does that. I'm not saying Percy and Annabeth _won't _be touche-feely, but they certainly won't be a... how do I phrase this? "Fluffy" couple. And I'm stopping myself there before I go off on a tangent. ;)  
>(That 'Heir' will be the least of their worries later on… *evil grin* In fact, they sort of begin to forget about it. Sorry, my friend, but they won't be having any family anytime soon…)<p>

NineCere: Thanks! Good. You _should_ be suspicious of Octavius. x) I almost wish I made him a good guy with all the facts pointing at him so much, but I suppose this is much better, and what I've got planned will be shocking enough anyway… And thank you! And yeah, those Gladiators… . Just wait another chapter or two, and you'll be… *coughs* Never mind, you'll see. As for Percy being OOC, he's not. I'll explain why he's so nervous later on… _waay _later on. I'm glad you can't wait to see what's gonna happen next! :D

Fionamoi: Thank you! And Percy won't be all "cute" and "noble" and "stuff" later on… :P Hel-lo re-AL-ity.

Guest: Your review made me laugh. :3 Your Autocorrect seems to be worst than mine *giggles*. But thank you… for legitally checking my story everyday for updates. xD I'm sorry if I sound like I'm being mean—I'm not, I swear. Your auto correct is autrious… erm, I _know _I spelled that wrong. I need my spellcheck working again! . Thank you for making me laugh! :3 :)


	8. Capvt VII: Something More (Part II)

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>by xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>November 2014<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong> Something More (Part II)  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 3,100+  
><strong>Rating<strong>: K+  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None

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><p><span>Capvt VIII: Something More [Part II]<span>

**Perseus**  
><em>Spring X176 BC<em>

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><p>"<em>It's alright being scared… it's alright being scared… it's alright being scared…"<em>

Percy climbed the stairs that went up to his… and Annabeth's chambers, her words echoing inside of his head.

_"I know you're no coward…"_

But he was a coward— she was the brave one, she had just displayed that when she started to speak out against Octavius like that. In fact, he _should _arrest her for treason against the Caesar, but for some reason, he just couldn't. He couldn't even summon more than a slight twinge of annoyance on his pater's behalf, and that almost made him feel scared for some reason. Not even Rachel could get away with talking like that against the Caesar, and he had loved her. A lot. But somehow, Annabeth could…

And he wasn't sure if that was because he was older then he was back then, or if it was something more.

"You're thinking again," a smooth voice spoke up, and Percy didn't even jump. He just plunged on ahead.

"Yes."

"That's dangerous."

Percy rolled his eyes, "Not particularly. I'm getting a cloak, Reyna. From my chambers." He added for good measure, glancing at the brunette. "And I'm pretty sure you don't need to guard me in my own resting place."

She smirked, "Why, I wasn't even thinking about guarding you. I just wanted to go on a pleasant stroll with one of my closest friends."

He arched an eyebrow, "No, you would go on a pleasant stroll with _Jason_. You just tag along so you can taunt me."

Reyna shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Guilty. But you already knew that." Percy struggled with his temper for a moment, and she added on, "So, why are you going back to your chambers?"

"Annabeth."

Her expression turned sage, "Ah. What did she do?"

"…she taunted me."

His friend laughed, abandoning all attempts at looking wise. Percy looked at the ceiling and nodded his head from side to side, waiting for her laughter to die down.

"She's getting to know you well, Percy. Attacking your pride, that's a strategy Lady Minerva would be proud of."

Percy sighed, and interlocked his fingers behind his head, dropping all royal protocol. It wasn't like anyone could see them. "I think she's a demigod, actually. No normal mortal would have eyes like hers. They're rather captivating… and scary."

(If Percy happened to look at Reyna, he would see that her eyebrow had shot up, before her lips curled up into a sly smile, although there was also a softer emotion in her eyes. But he didn't look at her, so he didn't know.)

"She's quite pretty."

He nodded without thinking, "Gorgeous, actually."

"And she's going to be more than a capable queen when she's Caesar at your side."

"Oh yes."

Reyna leapt up in the air and shouted, "Yes!" while punching it. Percy jumped away from her and stared. He had never seen her act so… childishly before. Reyna was grinning. _Grinning! _And _she_ was supposed to be the serious praetor.

"It's nice to see you finally beginning to move on after Rachel." Her eyes got that hint of sadness, and Percy looked away.

"I don't know I would say that, Reyna. I definitely don't feel the way for her I did for Rachel."

Reyna's gaze fell to the ground, "You'll be surprised, Percy."

Percy's eyebrows furrowed together as that protective instinct kicked in. Why did she look so sad? "What's wrong? Did Jason say or do something stupid again? Do I need to punch him?"

She looked up quickly, like she was surprised, then laughed slightly, "Nothing's wrong between me and Jason. We're just busier than usual, and I can take care of myself. Besides, I don't want to come between your friendship."

He smiled slightly, the layer of toughness softening, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry about that, Rey-Rey. You're like the annoying older sister I've never had, and I'm not afraid to beat Jason up if he hurts you or something."

"You're being overprotective as always." She rolled her eyes, then smiled, her expression softening. "Thanks for the gesture though, Percy. I'll leave you to get that cloak."

Percy blinked as she walked away from him. How did she always know what he was planning to do?

He shook his head; it didn't matter. Reyna would always be Reyna.

He opened the door to his chambers and dug around the chaos that he called home (it was _not _his fault, it just, happened…), throwing clothes over his head, looking for the right article of clothing he needed for super-duper-sneaky-stealth-mission-number-five-thousand-and-fifty-seven.

"Yes!" Percy shouted happily, and pulled the plain brown cotton out of the bottom of his chest. It was the only thing he owned that came from the peasants, and his pater didn't know about it.

He pulled the comfortable material up to his cheek and nodded against it. He grinned like a maniac for a moment, and then he draped it over his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Percy pulled his hood up and glanced in the mirror. The ridiculous grin he would _never _wear if someone else was around worked its way back on his face when he noticed he looked super mysterious. No, really. His face was covered in shadows and people would only know he was tall.

He even did a little dance as he walked out the door.

…And then he began walking, and walking, and walking. He tried to count his steps, but lost count somewhere after three thousand.

…And then he was standing in front of the doors to where the slaves were held, and Percy rested his hand against them. He swallowed a lump in his throat back. He had never been here before—his pater forbade him, so why was he doing this just because he felt like he had something to prove to Annabeth? It wasn't like he owed her anything—it was probably the other way around. So why was he going against direct orders like this? And on her account too.

Perhaps that rebellious streak he had when he was younger was coming back, the one he had before his mater died when she was returning from a visit from Sparta.

He shook his head and began to turn away. This was madness, absolute madness. He shouldn't be doing this—and his pater would throw a fit if—no, _when _he found out.

_You're no coward. _

Percy clenched his jaw as Annabeth's voice echoed in his head. He was; he was a coward. He wasn't brave like Jason or Reyna or Frank or Hazel—he wasn't brave like _she_ was. He was a coward. His pater said so.

_It's alright to be scared… all that matters is that you don't give into that fear…_

He was only using common sense…

But, his feet were moving like they had a will of their own, and his hand was pressing against the door. Percy gritted his teeth, it was just a door. Besides, he was the Heir Apparent. Why on Earth should he be denied access to something that would be rightfully his one day?

But, he couldn't…

_Can't, or won't?_

…What in Tartarus had he signed himself up for when he married her?

He pushed the door open.

~…~

The first thing that hit him was the stench.

Percy gagged and he reached up, his eyes watering slightly as he plugged his nose. Gods, no human could live in this place, slave or not. It wasn't right.

"Who goes there?" a hoarse voice asked, and then a spear was shoved under his nose. Percy went cross-eyed trying to keep it in view. "The Caesar ain't allowin' peasants here."

Percy coughed and unplugged his nose. Somehow, he even heroically stopped himself from gagging at the smell of urine and bad milk. And horse dung. And rotten eggs… _especially _the rotten eggs. And yes, he did know what those smell like—it was an accident.

"Apologies, my good sir, I don't believe you recognize me." He said, automatically reverting to his formal way of speech.

The guard raised an eyebrow, and Percy swallowed. He should turn back; it was obvious that this person would tell his pater he was here. In fact, the Caesar will probably go on a rampage when he finds out someone was here in the first place…. He shouldn't have come; the populus will probably get in trouble for something _he_ did. Again.

"Lord Perseus?" a soft, croaky voice suddenly came from in front of Percy, and he looked over the guard's shoulder. A man stood in the bars, reaching out toward him. His hair was white and thin, and his clothes looked more like a sack of rags than anything. "Is that you?"

Percy took a step closer to the man, cautiously, in case he was about to attack. His hand automatically rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Yes."

The man had tears in his eyes as he reached out, as if he was trying to touch him. Percy took a step back.

"Bless my soul… lad, you've grown so much."

Percy blinked, "Do I know you?"

"Wait, are you the Heir Apparent?" the guard's eyes were wide when Percy looked back at him. He grimaced—he had been discovered— and knocked his hood off. The guard's eyes went wide and he fell on his hands and knees. His forehead literally touched the floor.

"Forgive me, my liege. I didn't know it was you. I ain't meaning harm."

A small part wanted to let the man panic, but another part —the one that sounded suspiciously like Reyna and Hazel— was telling him to stop being a bully.

But, there was one other part that sounded just a tiny bit like something Annabeth would say… though that could just be him. He was a genius after all.

(_When Jason found out about that later, he would say, "In your dreams, Percy…")_

"I won't take offense this one time, so long word does not get out that I was here."

The guard nodded so fast that it looked like his head was about to fall off his shoulders. He actually hit the floor once, too. "Of course, sire. I would never tell anyone, your highness. Of course not, my lord."

Percy rolled his eyes since the man was still practically kissing the ground. Maybe he was. Bootlickers, the lot of them. That was the reason why he put up with Grover—at least thefaun (satyr, whatever) didn't make a fool out of himself. Even though he had an unhealthy love of pulling practical jokes…

"…your mother would be so proud…"

Percy spun around at that little sentence and the speed of his heart sped up. He should have been listening to this person—he wouldn't have been wasting his time and patience. The slave (prisoner?) was staring at him with round eyes.

"What do you know of my mater?" he asked, that familiar desperation surging through him as he thought of the woman he could not remember.

"She was wonderful, so kind." he wiped a tear from his eye, "Your father loved her so much, it was clear every time he looked at her."

He frowned. _Odd, pater always has contempt on his face when he talks of mater…_

"She was a wonderful Lady, and I was proud to have served her…"

"Ignore him, Heir Apparent. He's one of those mad barbarians—the _Graecus_. Uncivilized, the lot of them. And we get so many coming from the war."

"What?" Percy interrupted, "What war?" He paused, and added for good measure, "You're also instigating my wife is a barbarian."

It was odd how easy the word came to him now…

The guard's eyes went wide. "You don't know?"

Percy was barely able to stop himself from looking at the dingy ceiling. "Of course not," he snapped. "Otherwise I would not ask." The guard winced, but Percy ignored him. "This war?"

"Ya don' kna' 'bout the Macedonian 'ispute, or the Spart'n one?"

"Sparta!" He nearly yelped. His mater was from Sparta. In fact, he had been _born _in Sparta during one of his mater's trips, though he hadn't been there since. He paused. "Macedonia?" he was pretty sure he had heard the name before, but he had no idea _where_…

The guard nodded, shifting closer to him. Percy stepped away discreetly.

"It's a province a little Eas' of we, on the other side o' the Mare Nostrum—the whole lo' of 'em are Barbarians."

He shot him a look of disapproval, but he decided that he could figure out what these 'disputes' where about later. There was someone he had to talk to.

"Where is the slave girl?" he asked, "The one who fought in the Gladiators."

"That tiny little thing? She's four cells down, on the right. Just a warning though, she's got spirit, even if you intend to break her. Pretty little thing too…"

He managed to stop himself from throwing up as he realized what the man was implying, and began the walk, holding his shoulders back, the way his pater had taught him.

He wasn't how long it took him either, perhaps it was candlewicks, or heartbeats, but he was somehow standing in front of the girl's cell. He couldn't help but think she didn't look very 'spirited', with her head hanging down and hugging her legs. In fact, Percy thought she was crying.

But then she looked up, and he stopped.

Those weren't the eyes of someone who had given up—those were the eyes of a warrior, a hero. Those were the eyes of a seasoned veteran coming back from the Syrian Wars.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "I swear to Hades, if you're going to attempt to drag me off to another bloody battle…"

Percy almost smiled.

"No, actually. I'm not."

She raised an eyebrow, "Well then, _sire_, are you just here to waste my last moments on this earth being annoyed at you, or is there another reason?"

"I'll admit it; annoying you is rather tempting, but no. I don't have the time to do that. My wife noticed you in the arena, you may know of her. Her name is Annabeth; Princess Annabeth of Greece."

The girl turned an interesting shade close to the color of parchment. "I know her," she said softly. "We used to play together when we were girls."

Percy hoped he hid his surprise well. Maybe that saying was right; it's a small world. "You did?"

She smiled ruefully, though her gaze was unfocused. "It was a long time ago. I doubt she'd recognize me."

"You don't know that; she may have subconsciously. She sent me here to talk to you."

She looked at him, but while her gaze was as piercing as Annabeth's, it wasn't hostile. "What are you doing here, seeing a lowly slave like me?"

"Curiosity," he admitted, shrugging. "And as I said, Annabeth sent me here. What are _you_ doing here, as a lowly slave? You speak Latin well. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were an aristocrat in disguise."

The girl rubbed the back of her head, "I was stupid, actually. Our village was burning due to slavers setting it alight, and I ran right into them. At least my brother got away."

Percy frowned slightly, "That's not stupid. You were afraid, and you didn't know what was going on."

She smiled ruefully, "It doesn't matter anymore. It's been years and I've lived this long, though I suppose this is the end of the line for me." She sighed and tilted her head back, so that she looked at the ceiling. For some reason, Percy couldn't stop looking at the way her long dark hair pooled over her shoulders. "My only regret is that I never got to tell him sorry."

"I don't think you've got anything to be sorry for." She rolled her head, and Percy's throat suddenly felt rather dry. "You were protecting him, and that is all that matters."

She shrugged slightly, as if she didn't really believe him, and changed the subject. "You're different from your father."

Percy shrugged in the same manner she had. "I don't know."

She turned so she was facing him. "No, really. Octavius wouldn't give a rat's nest over a slave like me—I bet he sees us as some kind of horse. Useful when we work, but otherwise useless."

"That's not true…" Percy said in automatically, but it sounded hollow, even to his own ears. The girl regarded him sadly.

"You don't really believe yourself, do you?" Percy only looked away, and she let out a breathy sigh. "You've got the potential to be a great leader, Perseus. Perhaps the greatest. But you're blinded by your love to your father—you can't see your people are suffering. You can't see that things have to be changed."

Percy stood up abruptly and he began to walk away. He was about to throw something—he knew it. That white hot feeling in the center of his chest was burning again and—

A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. It was like he had been glued to the spot.

He looked at the girl, his heart beating like crazy. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing, like she was thinking. He wondered if they were good thoughts.

"Do you want your people to be terrified of you? Do you want mindless minions rather than friends? A kingdom… is not a kingdom without its people. A king isn't a king without his people, just like the people are not a people without their king. You need each other to exist. Because, one day, Rome will fall, just like Greece and Egypt. And would you rather it remembered a great kingdom with a happy population? Or do you want it to be a place remembered in mankind's darkest memory, like the bogey man?" She removed her hand, but Percy remained rooted to the spot. He couldn't look away from her eyes.

Her features softened a little. "Is this really the way you want to rule this land, Perseus?"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I didn't lie. :P I just said I wouldn't be able to update next _Friday_, which I won't because of this update. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :D On a side note... could we maybe, possibly get fifty reviews by chapter nine? *hopeful expression* Or even next chapter? That's, like, the most I've gotten... _ever_. Well, on a story as quickly as this- the most I've _technically_ gotten is 61... ;)

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><p><strong>Review Responses<strong>

Shinny Star: Thanks! Of course I love your username! It's so pretty and eye-catching. :) I'm glad you love my story, and I hope it'll continue to get better as it goes on. :)

NiniCere: Thank you for reviewing! :) I'm glad it's coming along pretty well- it's not an easy story to write... at all. . Don't worry- I'll be explaining more about Percy's and Rachel's past eventually. I may even make a prequel since Percy's and Annabeth's (especially Percy's) pasts are so interesting to me, but we'll see. That'll be a project for _after _I finish this, and that'll take a while... *coughs* 30 chapters, 30 weeks and I'm planning on taking a break between the two books. :3 As for Octavius being behind Rachel being "murdered" . . . well, just keep in mind that things may not always be what they seem.

dance4ever95: Thank you! And I'm glad you think this keeps getting more interesting- it keeps getting more interesting for _me_, that's for sure. x)

hungergamesfangirl100: HUNGER GAMES! ...have you read Divergent? ANYWAY! Thank you for the review! :3 A lot of people don't like the Percy/Rachel ship, which is why I was rather worried about the response of the last chapter. Don't worry, nothing will come out of it. :) ...okay, I shouldn't have said that. But yeah, Percy/Rachel won't happen, mostly because I'm more of a fan of Percy/Annabeth and Nico/Rachel... :)

simrasimigirl: Thanks for reviewing! Now, why do you think Octavius is heartless? x) Maybe he ends up sacrificing himself to save Percy and, uh, Sally was the evil one! Or Jason! Okay, hypothetically speaking, of course. But yeah, hate him. Don't worry, there shall be more sad and cute Percabeth moments... x-) Very, _very _sad Percabeth moments... And keep waiting! Yesss, reviews... the food my inspiration lives on... :P

iheartpickles: Thanks! And I can't say whether or not Percy's a demigod, that would ruin the surprise. ;) And yes, Annabeth is a demigod. :)

Fionamoi: Thank you! I'm sorrrry! I can't help it- I need to throw things to make them grow as people... or characters. If I don't, then there's no point in writing this story. :( But I hope the outcome will be something you'll... well, not like obviously, but at the very least, agree with and accept. :) And this, my friend, is nothing on sad yet. . Just wait until later on... 8) And I've updated! :D

NoNumbersinMyUsername: THANK YOU WITH CHERRIES AND LEOS ON TOP! Wait... I should do that for every thank you... Anyway! Ah, I see- and no, don't apologize. :) It's not your fault. Wait, should I start messaging people? I mean, I do it every Friday for a reason- but yeah. Hmmm, maybe I should check my own alerts thing. I may have missed something... but _that_ explains why all the reviews came in throughout the week instead on Friday/Saturday. Oh great, I sound scatterminded. But anyway, my math problems aren't really _that _bad- I'm ahead of my age now, and I've definitely always been ahead of average (probably to make up for my pitiful English skills...). Yeah, my mom was scared I was progressing to fast and I would fall behind, so she held me back. :/ Sheesh, you're stuck with troublemakers? Isn't there something you can do about it, like ask your principle to move you? Or, uh, home school? Or online school?

Nope. No way I can use it in my story... probably. Maybe I'd use it as a crack!shot? xD But then again, I've fit things in here that I thought I wouldn't be able to at first, and they make the story better later on. Like the first scene in chapter... 3? Yeah, 3. Slinky man... now _that's _a nickname... that has a story behind it... hmm... What does Ert mean though? ...if it's a slang teenagers should know, my defense is I'm homeschooled.

LOL, no drama. :P There's enough conflict and drama coming from outside sources that they don't need more. Nuh-uh, Annabeth's going to be his rock- they're going to have arguments, of course, but she's going to be his rock in all these_beautiful _things I'm going to throw at him... especially in the second part. x) I can't wait to start posting it... hehehehehehehehehehehe... *chokes on evil laughter*

Hmm, maybe I should make your reviews last due to length... marking it out in paragraphs make it much easier to write and read... hmm...

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><p><strong>KEEP CALM AND SHIP PERCABETH<strong>

xXTheDragonRiderXx


	9. Capvt VIII: An Example of Humanity

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>by xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>December 2014<p>

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><p><span>Capvt VIII: An Example of Humanity<span>

**Annabeth**  
><em>Spring, X176 BC<em>

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><p>Sometimes, Annabeth wondered what she had done to make the gods hate her so much. She really did.<p>

She wondered why they had gifted her with a sharp tongue, quite often in fact. It would be so much easier if she was compliant like some of the other princesses to the city states—like Sophia from Somos.* Then she would be perfectly fine with marrying some Heir Apparent that should had never even met before. Although, she was _very _lucky when it came to Percy…

In fact, she wondered why Athena had ever given her the _wonderful _gift of wanting ever more knowledge about the world around her, but she couldn't read. So, alas, she couldn't read Aristotle or Plato or Euclid or Archimedes or any of the rest. In fact, it was only by luck that she had been able to listen to the adventures of the great Hero, Odysseus, when she had been a little girl. Back then, it hadn't been considered improper for her to intermingle with the common-born children.

That, along with the bloody destiny to be some kind of 'Champion of Olympus' or something.

Actually, she wished she wasn't a princess of Greece. She was still miffed about the fact that her father had forced her to marry Percy. Though, she had to admit, Annabeth was incredibly lucky when it came to the fact that he was her husband and not some creep…

But that didn't change the fact that she had had no choice about it.

Suddenly, there was a slight sound, like the creak of a foot walking up the wooden stairs. Annabeth blinked and looked up quickly, realizing with a bit of a start that she had been glowering at the arena for quite some time. The slaves had been brought back.

It was Percy.

His face was pale and drawn though, as though he hadn't slept properly last night, though that was silly. Annabeth hadn't heard any indication that he was awake, seeing as she knew that it was impossible for him to keep still for some reason. Perhaps he had a great shock? Or maybe he had injured himself and was steadily losing blood?

But there was no blood…

"Percy?" she asked as he sat down next to her, promptly leaning over and propping his forehead in his palms. She placed a hand on his bare shoulder and rubbed it like her father used to when she was stressed over something. His body relaxed and he looked up at her with those big green eyes. They looked scary though; they looked more the sea when it was storming outside. Rough, untamable and dangerous.

"What's wrong?"

His eyebrows joined together in a frown, and he opened his mouth to reply. "I talked to the—"

"Perseus, Annabeth!"

Percy instantly straightened his back at the Caesar's voice, and Annabeth quickly placed her hand back where it belonged and glanced over his shoulder.

The Caesar was looking at them with a sort of, predatory gleam in his eyes.

"This is not the time to be making grandbabies, Heir Apparents."

Annabeth frowned in confusion, not getting what he was implying until Percy began stuttering. Her ears suddenly felt hot. She quickly scooted away from her husband while Artorius smiled at her with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

"We're not—_pater_—of course not now!"

The Caesar sat down on the right side of Percy, and Annabeth grimaced and quickly turned to Artorius. She had started to realize that the Caesar had a rather… perverse sense of imagination. That made her blush quite a bit, especially when images started to pop into her head…

"So, you and Perseus, huh?"

Annabeth groaned. "Be quiet, it's not like that."

"Yet." He _winked _at her, and she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Instead, she crossed her legs and scratched the inside of her ankle.

"We should be quiet, the Caesar will hear us."

He smirked slightly, "Yes, but I believe that he and Heir Apparent Perseus are too busy arguing about your sexual lives to pay attention to our bickering."

Annabeth buried her head in her hands. _Crazy Romans_ _and Brits._

"Please don't say it like that. Besides, shouldn't we pay attention to the Gladiators? I believe they're going to start again."

Artorius seemed to take pity on her, or perhaps the middle-aged (_but handsome!_) man had decided to save his teasing for another time. It was probably the latter. He nodded and focused his attention on the arena, and Annabeth pressed her lips together as tight as she could so that she could focus on that than her rather hyperactive imagination.

This _damn_ culture was beginning to wear off on her.

They were silent for the moment, with Percy and the Caesar arguing over a verity of topics though that made no sense to Annabeth. She knew her husband was terrified of his father, so to be able to argue like that… or maybe it was just over topics that held no real meaning.

Plus, Percy was smiling.

And then Annabeth forgot about the two of them when the dim roar of the crowds sent her ears ringing. Her heart started to beat quicker than normal and her fingers felt clammy. Somewhere off to the side, she saw the praetors—Jason and Reyna, those were their names— sitting (well, the latter was lounging…) in the seats where the Praetors usually sat. A group of people sat around them, mismatched in ages and sizes. There was no apparent order, but this was _Rome _after all—not Greece. She was sure there would be some kind of order, even though she didn't see it at first.

Thalia, Luke and Piper sat close to the two praetors, though a seat was missing a person—it was probably meant for Nico. But Annabeth had a feeling he wouldn't come, he would find all this mindless violence and death sickening.

In fact, it made Annabeth feel sick to her stomach herself.

And then the Gladiator appeared, and the crowd roared. Annabeth bit her lip and kept her eyes on the poor slaves, her gaze drawn to the only girl whose back was pressed against the rock and her chin was lifted up. There were only five slaves left.

"Not him!" Percy's harsh voice jerked her away from them, and looked at her husband who had turned to the Caesar. She could tell that he was practically bristling with how stiff his posture was, and she suddenly felt very glad that she was not the one on the receiving end of his glare. "Pater— why him of all people? I thought he was just watching!"

The Caesar looked far from pleased, as if he was annoyed with his son. Shivers ran up and down Annabeth's spine as his chilly gaze rested on Percy.

"The crowds need action."

"You call this _action_?" Percy sounded outraged, and Annabeth wondered if he had forgotten who he was speaking to. And who was here. She glanced at Artorius, who was staring at the two arguing parties with an eyebrow raised, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes, not unlike Luke when Thalia had shown him Backbiter, and then he promptly ended up kissing her, purely out of elation…

"No, I call this politics." The Caesar's voice was cool.

"Why Morrigan though? You know how he is! He—he's a psychopath. He'll _torture _them before the kill—at least make their death swift." Annabeth wasn't sure if she should be alarmed by how easily he said that, or thankful that Percy had enough mercy in him to not _want _their deaths to be prolonged…

"Mind your tongue, Perseus." The Caesar's voice was suddenly as sharp as his gaze, which had turned from icy to daggers. "Remember where we are—we do not want our _populus _to think there is disunity between their royals; imagine the chaos it would cause."

Percy tightened his jaw and clenched the armrests so hard that Annabeth thought they would break. His lips were in a very thin line (almost nonexistent) and his eyes were churning, like huge waves crashing against great rocks and cliffs…

"I'm sorry, pater," his voice was stiff. "I spoke out of term."

And that was that.

Annabeth looked back at the arena, but clenched her fists so hard that her nails began to dig into the edge of her palms. Pain shot through her in small waves, but she didn't pay any attention to that for the moment.

Instead, she had fixed her gaze on the place where Morrigan was slowly stalking onto the five slaves, like a cat with a mouse. Her heart was in her throat, and chills were going up and down her spine.

And then he darted forward like a viper.

A bang,

Dust.

Blood… everywhere.

Bodies, in a thousand different particles.

More blood.

Something sharp and bitter rose in the back of her throat, and Annabeth clamped her hand over her mouth and turned away from the gruesome scene. Gods… the images were going to be seared in her mind until the day she died.

When she looked up, she saw what was left the bodies —_don't think about them—_and how at least half of the Coliseum had been blown up.

And then, clapping erupted and the cheers seemed to shake the ground. Annabeth felt like a stone had been dropped in her stomach as bile rose in her throat again. They were _cheering _for this, this— this _massacre? _It wasn't right—it was horrible and there was _nothing _like this in Greece and…

She suddenly wanted to just go home.

But, that was not meant to be. She was the future heir of a rapidly expanding empire. She had responsibilities now, and she was not one to shy away from commitments… or fears.

So, when Annabeth glanced at Percy out of the corner of her eye for some reason she couldn't comprehend or even understood—instinct, perhaps, or something more, she saw that his eyes had averted and he was staring at their clasped hands (when had that happened?) with a frightening intensity. His jaw had clenched, and he had turned slightly pale.

Annabeth took a deep breath and switched her gaze back to the arena…

…and immediately regretted it.

But she couldn't remove her eyes from the grotesque sight. Yes, the exploded/flaming bodies were horrible (and sickening) but that—that _monster _was stalking on the girl like she was a mouse… eyeing her like she was a piece of meat… the eyes of a predator… like a cat… monster… death… killer… murderer… monster… he was going to kill a girl left to his mercy… his tongue wetted his lips…

Annabeth shot out of her chair and she marched right on up to the Caesar, who was standing at the podium, looking down on them with an eerie expression.

"Stop, please." She pleaded, seizing the Caesar's arm so that he couldn't ignore her. He turned to look at her, "She's just a child."

And then the Caesar sneered, his features twisting into something darker and Annabeth thought she knew why Percy both feared and loved this man.

"This isn't a Game, princess. These are politics."

"No they're not! They're ruthless slaughter! Your people will revolt if this keeps on continuing—that girl is not even fifteen summers—stop this, I beg of you!"

"Stop this foolishness, girl. How can someone barely of seventeen summers comprehend the meaning of how important this is? Do you see the people ready to revolt?" he spread his arms out in an extravagant gesture, and all Annabeth saw was blurred faces and red.

"These aren't your people—they're just courtiers and generals looking out for themselves. Your people are down _there_," she pointed in the Coliseum, though she had no idea what the specific target was. "Your people are the slaves who you see as cockroaches or ants. Your people are the men and women and children in the villages, fighting everyday to keep food on their table, fearing for when you call out another tax to which they may have to become a slave—"

"_Enough!_" he shouted, and Annabeth stopped. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw the way he was staring at her—like she was dead meat. "You _dare_ speak to your superior like this?"

And at his tone, Annabeth lost all rational thoughts.

"Hades yes, I do." She lifted her chin up, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Percy was biting his bottom lip to the point that he was drawing blood and his knuckles had gone white due to the grip he had on the armrests of the chair. He hadn't even looked up. She focused her attention back on the Caesar, who looked stunned, as if he hadn't expected her to speak out against him like that. _Well, too bad for him;_ Annabeth thought viciously. She wasn't a simpleton, and she was certainly wasn't one to hold her tongue on most matters.

"With all due respect, sir, those people are starving out there. They cannot afford your taxes, thus they sell themselves to become slaves—many of which for these barbaric _games _you host. Caesar, that girl, is not fifteen summers—_don't do this. _The gods will curse you and this land—"

—there was a pain in her right cheek, hot and icy at the same time, and it _stung _and smarted, and her head was whipped to one side—

And then there was a rough but gentle hand on the side of her face that wasn't hurting like Tartarus, and Percy's ocean-like eyes swam into her vision, full of open concern and there was something else in that gaze… fury? No, annoyance? No. Anger? Maybe…

"Caesar!" a small part of her noticed that he didn't call Octavius 'pater' or 'father', and she filed it away for later examination. "This is my wife. You shouldn't have, _slapped _her!"

"Perseus," the Caesar's voice was sharp.

"And besides, she does have a point—" Annabeth's vision was clearing, and she realized that Percy had twisted around so that he was looking the Caesar in the eye, _for once. _"—showing mercy will get the _populus_ on better terms with you."

Annabeth looked at the Caesar herself. The man had an ugly twisted expression on his face.

And then he made a series of hand gestures with one hand, and all the blood seemed to drain out of Percy's face. Several guards suddenly marched from the shadows and flocked the two of them.

Percy shoved her behind his back, but not before she saw that his face had a very un-Percy like snarl on it. "Don't touch her!" his tone was angry, but there was also a slight tremble in it—fear? "I swear to the River Styx, I will kill you if you hurt her."

There was a loud ominous boom, despite the fact that there was not a cloud in the sky, and Annabeth felt unease trickle in her consciousness. That was a _Greek _oath—it was very much_ not_ Roman, and Annabeth knew the ramifications of it. But how Percy knew of it was beyond her—she had only sworn on the River Styx once, and that was before she even heard of the engagement, let alone meeting and then marrying Percy.

Octavius certainly knew what it was, because he glanced at the skies nervously, and then back at her and Percy.

"Only take Perseus," he finally said after a long moment of silence, and for some inexplicable reason, Percy relaxed slightly. "I'll take the princess," …and then he tensed up again.

And before she knew it, the Caesar had taken a hold of her arm just above her elbow and was leading her away. His grip was so tight it almost hurt, but Annabeth was determined not to let any pain show on her face, which stung horribly.

In no time at all, they were standing in front of her and Percy's chambers, and for a moment, Annabeth felt icy cold as a thought invaded her mind –_was he…?—_but the Caesar didn't assault her. He only threw/pushed her onto the red carpet and loomed over her in the doorframe. Annabeth gulped.

Oh, she had just oh-so-massively screwed up.

"Be grateful your husband is Perseus, and not someone who would bat an eyebrow at proper discipline—otherwise I would have _you _flogged even more times than him."

Oh.

_Oh._

Octavius turned his back on her… and walked out the door.

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><p><em>*Somos is a Greek City-State. I was unable to pinpoint exact dates for when it was around, other than the fact that it was mentioned when I was reading about Athens and Sparta, so I would assume it was before the Peloponnesian Wars (431-404 BC), so, technically, this could be considered incorrect for 175 BC. In fact, it probably is. And Sophia is just a name I made up.<em>

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><p><strong>Review Responses<strong>

NiniCere: Thanks! And I can't tell you that, _yet. _:P Just wait two more chapters. x)

Guest01: Oh. My. Gosh. Thank you so much! *thud* I literally had tears in my eyes by the time I finished reading your review. *choke-hold snuggle flying tackle bear hug attack* I am so glad you're loving ACoGL! *biggrin* And I'm glad you think everyone is in character . . . ugh, it's so hard to do that, keep them in character. . There's where they are _now,_ and they have to be in character with the books, and then there's where I _want _them to be at . . . which won't happen until the end of the story. Which is probably 50+ chapters down the line... *facepalm* It's an on-going struggle, characterization, which makes me have to rewrite almost every chapter at least once. :3 :) I'm glad all that hard work's paid off! The setting is the easy part (well, compared to everything else- all the research. .) and the plot . . . yeah, the plot is something I've given up on. LOL. I still outline like crazy, but when I get around to actually_writing _those chapters, it seems to take a life of its own. And you're welcome!  
>(Hopefully, I'll get my fifty by next chapter. :) Thank you!)<p>

simrasimimigirl: Thank you! You'll probably be even more surprised when you find out who she is... as for more Percabeth, I think there's more coming up in the next chapter. :D And don't worry, you'll figure out who the slave girl is soon enough. ;) Aw, thank you! You're really sweet. *hugs*

hungergamesfangirl100: Thanks for the review! I love Divergent- especially Tobias/Tris but I can't believe Tris died. Well, actually, I can... . The Nico/Rachel ship is something I got into a few years ago, but I've never had the chance to write it. I may, eventually, but... we'll see. As for the peasant... :P Now, I can't give out spoilers, can I?

Fionamoi: Thank you for reviewing! Oh yes. More history. . I swear, this project has taught me more history than all the school I've done... as for that last chapter, we shall see. We shall see. :P And here's your update!

**Goal: **50 reviews next chapter please! I may update earlier too. ;)

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><p><strong>KEEP CALM AND SHIP PERCABETH<br>**xXTheDragonRiderXx


	10. Capvt IX: A Hidden Nobility

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>By xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>December 2014<p>

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><p><strong>Special thanks to my lovely Beta Reader: <strong>ThePraetorLady (seriously, she actually agreed to helping me edit this nightmare, go send her a PM, or better yet, review one of her awesome Leyna fics...)

**Thanks for reviewing:** Shinny Star, Guest, those-that-wander, IceeFlower, simrasimigirl, Smiles Burn In The Styx, Fionamoi, PoseidonPrince and Swaggy Bat

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><p><strong>Guest Review Response<strong>

**Guest: **Aw, thank you! :) And I'll do my best!

**Swaggy Bat: **I'm sorry! *yelps and ducks*

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><p><span>Capvt IX: A Hidden Nobility<span>

_Annabeth_  
><strong>Spring, x176 BC<strong>

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><p><strong>Trigger Warning:<strong> _**PROCEED AHEAD WITH CAUTION. **This _chapter was why I made it T and not K+. **[SPOILER]** Very _dark _hinting of suggestive... not consensual sex. I think that's what it's called? **[END OF SPOILER] **You have been warned.

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><p>Time seemed to blur together for Annabeth until she had no sense of it left. She was left entirely alone to her dark thoughts—and the crippling onslaught of guilt. What had she done? How did it turn out this way? All she wanted was to stop Octavius from ruthlessly slaughtering a young girl—and then she somehow got Percy into a horrible situation; and that girl was probably in a worse state than when she had been in the coliseum.<p>

_All your fault, _a voice inside of her head reminded Annabeth. _After all, doesn't this happen every time you try to do something good?_

Annabeth shook her head at the rather nasty voice and began to pace. _There was that one time I saved Nico though._

_You were the one who blurted out he's Spartan._

She clenched her jaw and very forcibly made her mind go blank. It was just her conscious talking—and besides… maybe Octavius wouldn't really go through with the lashings. After all, he was his son, and it wasn't like Percy had kidnapped someone or anything. In fact, he had only spoken out because of _her_ big fat mouth.

"That's right," she whispered, stopping and looking at herself in the mirror on top of her dresser. She looked tired in her reflection, and her hair had fallen out of the elegant bun Percy had fixed. "Octavius wouldn't do something that horrible. It is a punishment fit for kidnappers and rapists and murderers, and even then that's soft."

But a voice that sounded suspiciously like her brother, Malcolm, was whispering; _but you aren't in Athens* anymore—this is Rome._

She shoved that voice to the back of her mind. She was just being silly— and paranoid. No father would do that to his son. It just wasn't right.

Unless, of course, you were Hades. But even then, he had done that to Nico by accident- made him seperate from his sister.

There was a loud squeak —the door, probably— and Annabeth spun around. A guard stood in the frame, his arms folded over his chest, eyeing her with a gaze that made her skin crawl with goosebumps. A horrible feeling formed in her gut, and she tilted her head up and squared her shoulders back. Someone had told her that to show weakness left you vulnerable to attacks.

"His Excellency says you may leave now."

Annabeth nearly sagged with relief as she realized she was free from this house-arrest. How long had it been? Two bell rings, three? She stepped closer to the door, but he didn't step out of her way.

_What if he's... _she cut the thought off before it could continue into something horrible. It didn't stop her from remembering the time when a bear had attacked her.

"Sir?" she began, trying to resist the urge to tap her fingers against her side, to jump around. "I implore for you to move aside."

The guard grinned showing that his teeth were crocked and yellow, and even a few were missing or chipped. Annabeth slowly began to back into a table as he stepped inside of her and Percy's chambers—which was _very much _not proper, _at all_. Her hand scrambled around for something, _anything,_ as he loomed over her; his breath stank of something foul, and her heart had started to quicken.

_I've got a very, very bad feeling…_

He took her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him, and his grasp wasn't _at all _like Percy's. Even though his was rough, he hadn't really hurt her, and she hadn't felt scared of him. Well, she had, but not in this way.

_Ouch! _Her hand nicked on something sharp, like a dagger or knife…

"I'm sure Perseus won't mind if he shares…" he sounded a little breathless, and his gaze dropped from her eyes to her chest. She tried not to gag, but her hands were beginning to get sweaty and she wondered if he could hear her heart. She carefully began to run her fingers up and down the blade, looking for the hilt. "After all, that's what we men do. Share our wrenches."

Annabeth curled in on herself as he stepped so that he was pressed flush against her body. "I… I demand for you to step away."

The man's nasty grin widened, "Feisty one, eh? Perseus is a lucky one then."

And several things happened at once.

Just as Annabeth found the hilt of the dagger, the man moved seized her chin and jerked her head back. Her chest seemed to tighten, her vision sharped and she suddenly felt wide awake. She whipped the dagger— or was it a knife?_— _out in front of her, jerked her head out of his grasp, and twisted away from him somehow, ducking as his fist sailed where her head had been just moments before.

She paused for half a heartbeat and saw an advantage. He had left his chest wide open when he had thrown that punch—his _right _side, if she was not mistaken.

She surged up and latched onto the front of his shirt, twisting the dagger into a better grasp, and held it right over his heart. The lecherous guard's eyes had gone wide, hopefully with fear or surprise, though Annabeth couldn't really tell which.

All the blood was rushing through her brain, but her thoughts were startling clear as she realized what just transpired. What almost happened to her. An urge to burst into tears and throw up almost overwhelmed her, but she forced it back. She could cry later, she had to be strong right now.

A plan began to form in the back of her mind, and she began talking.

"I wouldn't, if I were you." Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. Cold, distant—almost like her father's when he was talking to her. "I have the blood of the gods running through my veins."

The guard went pale. "Y-you're one of those villainous demigods?"

Annabeth pressed the dagger into his chest a little more, A small splat of blood stained his leather and her hands. _Must not be made right; _she scoffed inwardly. Outwardly, "Mind your tongue, filth. I have your life in my hands."

He didn't need to know that she wouldn't kill him—the thought of killing another human being, no matter how despicable he was, made her sick to her stomach.

"You can't… you're just a girl…" he looked uneasy though, and Annabeth barred her teeth at him in an imitation of Luke's 'I-Am-Going-To-Turn-You-Into-A-Pile-Of-Shrimp-Kabob' glare. It must have worked, since he went paler than a specter.

"Do you really want to try me?"

The coward swallowed, and Annabeth felt a vindictive pleasure at seeing him so nervous. His shifty little piggy eyes seemed to search her face, but she made sure it was impassive. It was something she excelled at- hiding your emotions since childhood did have some benefits.

"Now," she let her lips curl up into a mocking smile as she made sure her voice was as smooth as silk, She was in control; she was _not at all _terrified. "I can tell _Lord_ Perseus about this little incident, along with the Caesar, and let them handle it…" she paused for a moment, to let her words sink in and enjoyed his look of absolute terror. "_Or _I can keep quiet in exchange for something."

He looked relieved yet worried at the same time, "For what?"

Annabeth let a smirk curl her lips up and she held her left wrist—the one not holding the dagger—up. His jaw dropped a tiny bit, and she knew he knew what the tattoo of a medallion with an upside horseshoe meant. He knew what her mother had done to her. "Do you know what this is?" she made her voice soft, but her tone was deadly.

"Y-you're—"

She plowed on, interrupting his splutter. "Yes, I am a Champion of Olympus— one of the last, actually." Annabeth tossed her head a little before she looked at him dead in the eye. Time to turn the tables on him— this could actually work in her favor. "In return for your life… if I am ever found out, either as a Demigod or a Champion, I want you to free me."

"I could die!"

"Just like you could die now," she reminded him sharply. "You'll be a traitor either way— either because you assaulted me or because you tried to free me. Your choice; die now for sure, or have the have the possibility to live a little longer, scum though you are. I really don't care."

The man swallowed hard and he nodded once, curtly. "I'll free you."

Annabeth smirked and stepped away from him, a slightly hysterical-giddy feeling erupting inside of her. She had managed to defend herself from an assault. She was alright! But... Percy was not.

The feeling went away like a bucket of icy water had been dumped over her head, and then she had smacked into a tree, and then Leo had smashed a wrench in the back of her head. For good measure.

"Where is my husband?"

"Outside," was his short answer. Annabeth nodded once and turned her back, even though it was a risky move. But she wanted to show him she wasn't afraid— that she was completely in charge.

"Remember your promise, though I did not make you swear on the River Styx."

She couldn't see if he nodded as the door slammed shut behind her with a certain kind of finality.

She placed her head in her freehand and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. It was a good thing Percy had that dagger on his desk, otherwise he could've—

She stifled the sob that rose in her throat and glanced at the weapon she was holding in her hand. It didn't look like much. In fact, it was simple compared to some of the weapons she'd seen, but there was a certain kind of elegance to it that appealed to her.

_I'm fine, _she told herself. _Nothing happened, and Percy needs you._

~…~ **[END OF PG-13 PART]**

Annabeth felt like someone was watching her. She felt like there were predatory eyes boring into the back of her neck. But every time she looked back, there was no one. So she tried to push it into the back of her mind— after all, she wasn't superstitious, and Athena would be ashamed of her. But there was that feeling still lurking, and she kept jumping at small noises.

Perhaps that was the reason she had grabbed a cloak, —not from her and Percy's chambers, she would only step in _there _once Percy was with her— so that she could hide herself from prying eyes. She didn't want anyone to realize the former Princess of Greece (_technically_, it was only Athens) and now Heir Apparent of Roma, was walking amongst them.

Conversation drifted like wild fire around her, and Annabeth found that she was feeling rather dizzy with it all—

"_—need to get food for my lord—"_

_"—have you seen Gwen?"_

_"—and Katie is like a blimp with Travis' child!"_

_"When do you think heirs will be coming around?"_

That last bit made Annabeth feel warm. And nervous. How—why in Tartarus where they already gossiping about stuff like that? She had barely been married to Percy for a week! Had they no shame?

...not only that, but she didn't want _anyone _to touch her now. Not even Percy. _Especially _not Percy.

Then again… gossip like this had happened just after Luke and Thalia married almost two years ago (no baby— yet). Granted, their marriage was under _very _different circumstances, and they probably _had _been making love long before that…

Honestly, a part of Annabeth was envious that they got a choice— that they very much loved each other. But then again, it wasn't like she and Percy downright hated each other— in fact, if she dared to think of— maybe they were… even friends, almost.

No, not really friends—not yet. It was something more than strangers and acquaintances, but not exactly friendship. One day, probably.

_Percy!_

Annabeth stopped right there and then in the hallway, as if a physical force had yanked her chest and stomach out and was standing behind her, taunting…

She spun around, closing her mouth against her sudden chokes and gasps so that they would not be heard by whoever had assaulted her.

Nobody.

So, she was being paranoid… Athena would scorn her for this. But Annabeth couldn't help it— there was that feeling, that someone was burning holes in the back of her head. That suffocation that was similar to drowning (unfortunately, she was speaking from experience). That feeling of greasy, slimy hands running up and down, pushing her down and pinning her arms—

Annabeth shook her head roughly, more like a jerk really, and wrapped her arms around herself. At least she got her stomach and heart back, though now there was an unpleasant feeling in the back of her throat— like bile was trying to make its way up.

_I'm just being a sissy, _she told herself. _In fact, _Percy _needs _your _help right now so you better put your act together and figure out where the Styx he is. Otherwise you'll feel even guiltier and the gods will blast you a thousand years into the future—and then what?_

_Wait. Percy. He needs you now, Annabeth._

In fact, Annabeth's feet had carried her outside somewhere—though how and when she got there, she did not know. All that she knew was that she was completely, utterly lost in the crowds.

Where was he? She had to find him. Annabeth knew the Caesar couldn't be… that… that…

Cruel.

"Oh gods," Annabeth breathed as she battled her way through a thick crowd that seemed to be congregated in one particular area.

There was the sound of laughter and jeers and… Percy.

Oh gods. Oh _gods_.

"Percy!" her scream sounded far away as the the tormentors stopped—_doing that. S_he lifted the skirts of the toga (the dress?) up and ran over to him. She fell to her knees by his side and reached out to touch his back—his _bloodstained back _and how_ could _they_ do _something so_ barbaric _to their_ prince?_

Tears sprung into her eyes, "Oh gods, Percy… I'm so sorry…"

One of his eyes, the one that wasn't swollen and black and blue and suspiciously red, opened. Annabeth was unsurprised to find tears in them— a reflex, she was sure— and… how could he be _smiling_?

"'s'not your f'ult."

Annabeth whirled around on the guards, one of whom was holding a whip, and reached for her dagger. There was no _way _she would let these _barbarians_ hurt him anymore.

"Do you have no honor?" She demanded, "This is your _Heir Apparent_. How could you… how could you _do _this to him?"

The guards glanced at each other uneasily, and then back at her. Annabeth planted her feet in front of Percy's still form (had he lost consciousness?), to protect him from their wrath. He had done the same for her; she wouldn't let this go on any longer. Hastily, Annabeth wiped at her face with the back of her hand; it would do no good to act like a little girl.

"The Caesar said twenty lashes."

"T-twenty!?" a part of her knew she shouldn't be surprised, but Annabeth couldn't stop herself. She quickly glanced over her shoulder. His arms were pinned under his chest and his eyes had closed; so he _had_ blacked out. Maybe he won't feel more pain than necessary. "Why…"

"Ten for him, ten for you," his voice was clipped and short, as if things like this happened every day. Maybe they did.

Annabeth shook her head and turned back to Percy. She couldn't even find her voice to express the sudden white hot feeling in the middle of her chest, or the urge to run away and hide. And maybe she never would. How could they _do_ something like this to their Heir Apparent?

It looked more than twenty lashes…

_Monsters._

"What did he _do_?" a soft, shocked voice spoke above her, and Annabeth glanced up. A blond man stood next to her. His bright eyes were wide for a moment, but then they narrowed and drifted up and down Percy's prone form with a strange intensity. It reminded her of Luke, when he did the same for her. It was usually when she had done something stupid and got injured for it.

Annabeth dropped her gaze and studied her fingernails— there was dirt in them. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's all my fault."

"What?" the man's tone was sharp. There was a sudden pressure on her shoulder, and Annabeth flinched away from him. Her stomach twisted, even though she knew it was irrational. There was nothing even remotely sexual about the gesture.

Chase (no, wait, his name started with a 'J'…) tilted his head and his eyebrows had drawn together into a tiny frown. "What do you mean your fault?"

"I… my tongue ran away with me. I wasn't thinking, and then Percy was defending and the Caesar made these hand gestures and it's all so messed up…" she buried her head in her fingers and rocked back onto her heels.

"Oy, pull yourself together princess." Jase— no, _Jason— _snapped, though he didn't sound particularly mean. Just stern. Annabeth lowered her hands and barely managed to stop her jaw to drop. No one had ever _dared _to speak to her like that. "I really have no idea what in Tartarus Percy sees in you, but he spoke out against Octavius Caesar. So suck up whatever is bothering you and help me with him, because I, for one, won't be able to get him to Meg without adding more injuries, if you don't help."

Annabeth blinked; then she nodded. She wiped her right hand across her face, a nasty mixture of boggers and tears staining it, and she wiped it on her toga. She hated how weak she felt.

Quickly, she stashed the dagger she had borrowed from Percy and stashed it in the gold ribbon that held her toga shut.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>"YE GODS, WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?"<p>

Annabeth winced at the sheer volume of the woman's voice. The physician's eyes were wide as she took in the state Percy was in, and Annabeth had no doubt that her ceremonial toga had been bloodstained. In fact, they probably looked like they had just walked through Tartarus.

"I'm sorry…"

Jason shot her a look and directed his gaze back to 'Meg'. "I think you may have to give her a nerve tonic. Anyway, Percy got into an argument with the Caesar. As you can tell, this is the result."

Meg's eyes were wide and full of sympathy— Annabeth hated it. Percy didn't need sympathy, he needed help.

Then she shook her head, "Bring him inside."

* * *

><p>For a moment, Annabeth thought she was a little girl again and she had fallen asleep at one of her father's dinner parties. For a moment, she thought her father was running his hand through her hair as he always did to wake her up, before he grew so terribly stern.<p>

But, it couldn't be King Fredrick's relatively smooth palm. For one, this one was stronger and surer, calloused by years of fighting with a sword. It was gentle, yet strong and comforting. Her father hated her now. She wasn't a little girl anymore. And Annabeth lived in Roma now…

She groaned loudly and opened her eyes. If she remembered correctly, she had refused to leave Percy's side, though Meg had insisted she move into a bed. So, she had… she had ended up curling up to Percy. She didn't want to, but she didn't want to leave his side, even if she had had to press up against him. So that was what she had done.

"I think you like stealing beds, Annabeth." Percy's voice was quiet, as if he was afraid to speak too loudly, but amused. Annabeth blinked a couple of times and his face stopped blurring together.

He looked a bit better. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face was gaunt, like he had lost five pounds in a day, and his face was pale, like he had just lost most of the blood in his body. Which he had. But she knew he would recover. Probably.

...wait, shouldn't he still be passed out?

"Are you alright?" she ignored his former statement. She pushed herself up with one arm and hovered over him.

"I'm fine," he said, too quickly. And there was a grimace on his face. Annabeth frowned at him and gently touched his side, which caused him to gasp, as if in pain.

She shook her head at him and fought a smile back. He reminded her a little of Luke, just a little.

"Water, please?" his voice was slightly raspy for some reason, but Annabeth only spared that a moment's thought. She moved her weight back off her arm and sat on her haunches by his waist. She reached across his body and grabbed the pitcher, then braced her weight again.

She poured the water and placed the jug back. Then she shifted again and held his head up so that he wouldn't spill it all over himself and held the glass to his lips. His eyes fluttered shut and it disappeared quickly. Silently, she repeated the process.

"Thank you," she murmured. He glanced at her, as if confused. Annabeth realized he had stopped drinking, so she placed the glass where it belonged on the table.

"What for?"

She forgot how to breathe for a moment. Percy… he looked genuinely confused, not arrogant or haughty, with that stupid grin on his face that she was growing used to. He didn't even look knowing. It was like he genuinely didn't know what he had just done. For her.

"For… everything. Saving me from that Cyclopes, becoming my husband…" she didn't mention that night, as he probably knew what she was _really _talking about. "…stopping the Caesar."

He tilted his head. "That was nothing," it wasn't a dismissal or him waving something off, it was like he was stating a simple fact. "Besides, I doubt pater would really hurt you."

"Percy… Meg said you had twenty-five lashes, instead of the ten you would have gotten if you hadn't defended me. And a few of your ribs had cracked. And your wrist was sprained."

She glanced away from him so she couldn't read his expression. She didn't want to know if he was hurt or angry, because it would be all her fault. That chasm that had opened in her stomach just after the Caesar left widened, and she had to physically fight tears back by biting into her bottom lip.

"I'm sure… he didn't know," he sounded hesitant, and she spun around to stare at him. Surely, he couldn't _believe _Octavius was innocent in all of this? "Maybe the guards' disobeyed his orders?"

"Why would he order them to flog you in the first place though? No father would do that to their child— not unless he hated him."

Percy shook his head, "No. He does love me. He just doesn't show it. Maybe he… I don't know, maybe he thinks speaking out like that in public is a crime suitable to get… flogged."

She pressed down on his chest. He was getting himself worked up and she didn't want him to injure himself. Maybe telling this to him right now was not the best time—in fact, it wasn't.

She licked her lips. "You're right; this is all just a big misunderstanding. I'm sorry, Percy." Maybe she would regret those words later, but for now, she needed him to calm down. She could certainly hold him back right now, but he would end up hurting himself trying to prove her wrong. Again.

"What about the slave girl?" his body went less tense, and Annabeth couldn't help but feel guilty for lying to him. One day, it would come back around, the topic. One day, he would realize just how horrible Octavius really was, and he would probably yell at her for this. But for now, she didn't want him to stress out. Much.

"Her?" she tried not to sound guilty, but he seemed to pick up on something. His eyes narrowed and she shifted. "Octavius placed her in the holding cells for the night, I think. I really forgot about her until now— the only reason I know that is because Jason helped me get you here."

He nodded slowly. "Okay… she's safe until morning, and Reyna will probably already have ten different plans."

They went silent for what seemed to be a long time, but the moon didn't move.

"I should go and help her," she announced. She pushed herself off the bed. "It's because of my stupidity that she is facing execution on the morrow."

She made to take a step away from Percy, closer to the door, but he stopped her— it had to have been him, since no one else was there. Annabeth looked down at her wrist, where there was a strange, but not entirely foreign warmth engulfing it…

He held her arm in a gentle, but firm grip, making hers seem tiny in comparison with his. She glanced up at him, only to find him staring at her with an almost vulnerable emotion etched both on his face and deep in his green eyes.

"Stay with me, please." His voice was a little hoarse. "Or at least, stay until I fall asleep."

A strange warmth filled her then. She felt lightheaded, yet invigorated somehow, as if she could spring up on her tippy-toes and fly like a bird if she chose to do so. Pausing to catch her breath, she pulled her arm from his grip and then laid her hand in his outstretched palm. The feeling was nearly overwhelming now, as sweet as it was unfamiliar. His fingers closed around hers, gentle and strong, and then she must really be flying now.

But no, they were still in Meg's chambers, still bone tired, still hurting, and still grounded to the earth. They weren't flying, but it was close.

Careful not to disentangle their connected fingers, she crawled back under the covers and pressed herself against his side. He was warmer than she thought he would be.

"Thank you," she whispered. That warm feeling was in her toes, in her fingertips. She felt like spinning in a circle like a young girl would. She felt like she had to scream to express how she felt right now: ridiculously happy and yet, strange at the same time. It would have almost been scary if it hadn't felt so… _right_. So natural.

Maybe it wasn't so strange.

His eyes were half lidded, but he gave her a drowsy smile.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p>*<em>Technically speaking, Athens fell to Sparta in 404 BC during the Peloponnesian Wars (431-404 BC), while Sparta declined in 371 BC… and I didn't realize that until chapter six.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh my gosh, I'm so, _soooo _sorry I didn't update last week, especially since you guys helped me reach 50 reviews. I swear, I would have updated last week- and early- but RL decided to throw some unexpected (some fun, some not) things at me. . I'm really sorry.

On a side note, from now on, I'm going to reply to all the reviews by PM (but I'll still give shout-outs on the top of the chapter), simply because they're getting _long_. :) And **ThePraetorLady **agreed to beta this nightmare (fabulous lady by the way- she has awesome Leyna fics...), so look out for my annoucment for when the old chapters have been edited! :D


	11. Capvt X: Beautiful Negligence

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>by xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>December 2014<p>

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><p><strong>Special thanks to my lovely beta: <strong>ThePraetorLady  
><strong>Thank you for reviewing: <strong>Shinny Star, NiniCere, simrasimigirl, Fionamoi**  
><strong>

**Author's Note: **Okay, guys, regarding the updating schedule, you've got two options.

1) Go on hiatus until March, and resume after that with steady updates.

2) Keep on going, but the updates will be somewhat . . . unsteady. It will still be on Fridays, but I won't be able to garentee it every week.

I'm awful, I know, springing this up on you guys on Christmas Day. But I've got a big test coming up in February, and I need to get a high score to get into a University I want to get into for college credit. I'm game either way, but I'd probably prefer the first one as there's less stress, but on the flip side, I may be able to keep up with steady updates for option two, _or, _I may only be able to update once during the time.

But you get a long chapter to make up for it? Kind of? *cringes* Sorry? Again?

* * *

><p><span>Capvt X:Beautiful Negligence<span>

Annabeth  
>Spring, X176 BC<p>

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The door opened slowly with a loud creak, as if the person behind it was trying not to let the noise be too loud. Annabeth's head jerked up from the mug of black, bitter substance Meg gave her, and she tried to see through the door. She cleared her throat.

"Who's there?"

"Just me, Annabeth."

She felt her body slump when she recognized Nico's familiar baritone, even though he had spoke barely louder than a whisper. The son of Hades swept into the room, closing the door behind him without a sound, as though determined to defy the laws of physics. Silent as always, he walked over to the only table in the room, his black cape flowing behind him like he was an overgrown bat. His face remained neutral as he sat down in front of her and, without presume, plucked the cup out of her hand and took a sip.

"You realize I was drinking out of that, right?" she asked, but she wasn't really angry. He had stolen so many drinks from her hands that it was almost a tradition now.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Since when has that stopped me?"

She shrugged.

"Come on outside," she lowered her voice a little, changing the subject. She wanted to look behind her shoulder to where Percy was asleep. "I don't want to wake him up."

His gaze drifted over her shoulder. She glanced down at the small vile of sleeping tonic in her hand and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, like a stone had been dropped in there. She shouldn't have drugged him like that, he would view it as a betrayal, but… well, she didn't want him to try to rescue the slave girl. Or do anything even more foolhardy. She didn't want him to get worse, the red welts on his back looked worse now than earlier that morning… or was it last night? It didn't matter; she just hoped his infection wouldn't get worse.

"You drugged him, didn't you?" Nico's tone was slightly incredulous, but not entirely surprised. She twitched her face to the left and shrugged again.

"I don't want him to do anything stupid."

"Like _he'll _be the one to do something stupid."

"Shut up, Death Breath."

"Of course, my lady." His tone didn't seem mocking, but she knew it was- she had known him since they were children. She narrowed her eyes. He pushed himself off the chair and offered an arm, but she knew he wasn't being chivalrous. She stood up and swept past him gracefully, tripping over the hem of her dark blue toga.

The door opened without a creak and no one pulled it, but she knew it was Nico. He had this ability to… manipulate objects, whether they were insubstantial like shadows (which they were, more often than not) or solids like doors. Apparently, everything had some kind of shadow inside of it, which was how he was able to do that stuff.

Did she believe him? Yes. Yes she did. What other explanation was there? He was a magician?

"Are we going to rescue that slave girl?"

"Yes."

"Not alone, I hope." A new voice spoke up, cool and commanding, but distinctly feminine. Annabeth whirled around, her skirts billowing out with her movement. She tensed automatically, waiting for the reprimand from one of the Caesar's—

It was the female praetor, though she couldn't remember what her name was. She was the woman who had been with Percy on that patrol when she first met him.

The dark haired woman walked forward gracefully and slowly, almost as if she were a leopard circling her prey. Annabeth glanced over the woman's shoulder and then off to the side— no escape there.

"Don't deny it." her voice was smooth as silk. She must know she had them cornered. "I heard you— both of you."

"Okay then, fine. We're planning on getting that girl out, because we know Octavius will have her executed."

The woman in front of her frowned, and there was some strange emotion in her eyes. She couldn't name it though; maybe it was anger or worry? "You know you'll be his first suspect— everyone saw you two arguing with each other, and then Percy was taken away…" She didn't mention the flogging. "In fact, I won't be surprised if he sends you to the stocks without hesitation, if you're lucky. Are you willing to risk the consequences?"

Annabeth bit into her bottom lip, it hurt a little, and she turned around so that her back was facing the praetor's. She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her fingers in. She wasn't stupid, she was far from it, it didn't matter what people (and gods) say. So what if she didn't know how to read or write? She knew a little bit about strategy and diplomats from her father, and she did know a little history. That didn't make her stupid, most girls— most _men_— knew less. Just because she was a woman didn't make her stupid. She wanted to be educated, by the gods, she would do _anything _for an education, but she was never given the opportunity. It confused her to no end, why those boys hated being taught. They should be grateful for it.

She looked at the woman again, who's eyebrow arched up a little. Nico was leaning against one of the pillars, his arms folded and ankles lying crossed neatly, his right resting over his left.

"It… is the right thing to do." She paused, trying to figure out how to phrase her thoughts. "I know you think that I may not be rationalizing things through, but I am. That girl… she never did anything bad, or wrong, or evil. She's only a victim of circumstance."

The woman pressed her lips together into a thin line. "And if she dies anyway, and you are caught in the crossfire?"

She swallowed then lump in her throat back. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. "Then that will be my problem."

The woman nodded. "I will help."

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"Where is the slave girl?" Reyna (as she had introduced herself) demanded, storming into the dungeons. Her purple cloak billowed out behind her, and her gold armor flashed in the dim light. That, combined with the way her dark eyes flashed and her jaw was set in a hard line made her a terrifying sight.

Annabeth followed behind her more carefully, seeing as she technically shouldn't be there. Her gaze fell on the man, who looked a tiny bit like a rat. His teeth were rather large and his nose was turned up… and he was shaking and holding his hands over his mouth, making claw-like motions with them as he chewed on his fingernails.

"P-praetor!"

"Now!"

Between the mess of stuttering and Reyna's yelling before she punched him in the gut, Annabeth managed to deduce that the slave girl had already been taken to the execution block with only a private trial.

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_"You realize you'll get in trouble for that, later, right?"_

_"And I'll deal with that when the time comes. I've got a few trusted allies that can help us…"_

_"Me too."_

_"Before the noon bell?"_

_"Her execution is scheduled for the noon bell."_

_"See? Before the noon bell!"_

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_"Annabeth? Nico? What are you doing here?"_

_"We— I need your help, Luke."_

_"What?"_

_"The slave girl— she's going to be executed by the noon bell."_

_"And you want to do a breakout. And you need my help and my super awesome powers to break in." _

_"Don't get cocky, Luke."_

_"Alright, alright. You know, I change my mind about you marrying this Heir Apparent: he's a good influence on you."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Oh, you'll find out eventually~."_

_"Ignore him, Annabeth. He's trying to make you angry again."_

_"Yeah, I figured that, Nico. Where is Thalia? And Piper?"_

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They met up with Reyna quicker than they had planned, after they found Piper and Thalia, of course. Annabeth had debriefed them (and Luke) about their situation, and then had told them to come down at the eleventh bell.

However, Reyna had gotten there before them— and she had Jason with her, the other praetor.

Annabeth slowed down a little as she observed the praetors' demeanor. Their bodies were tense and Reyna's eyebrows had furrowed while Jason paced and ran a hand through his hair. They didn't only look nervous, they were worried too.

"There you are." Reyna's relief was palpable, even though Annabeth only met her that morning. "I was only able to get Jason— Hazel and Frank are being watched by the Caesar's lackeys. She spoke up during the Senate and I don't want them to lose their jobs… or worse."

She nodded, even though she had no idea who this 'Frank' or 'Hazel' were. She was beginning to hate Percy's father- he seemed to be crueler than her own father. She knew she and him, King Fredrick, her father, didn't have the best relationship, but she knew he wouldn't have her flogged for speaking out or defending someone.

"I understand." She counted quickly in her head, like how Luke taught her how to do long ago. "There'll be seven of us once Luke, Thalia and Piper get here." Jason's eyebrows furrowed slightly at Piper's name, but Reyna nodded.

"We need a game plan." Nico mentioned, and she jumped a little. He had been so silent she had nearly forgotten he was there, even though she counted him in her mental count.

She shook her head mentally and pressed her lips together. "Thalia has a fear of heights, so she'll need to stay on the ground. Luke has a way with locks, and Piper is a charmspeaker—"

"Wait, what do you mean?" Reyna asked, her eyes suddenly sharp and clear, and Annabeth realized her mistake too late. She had just given them a tipoff they were something more than merely mortals.

She turned to Nico. "Can we trust them?" she inquired, switching into Greek so that they wouldn't be able to understand her. Nico's gaze drifted over to the two praetors, but she kept her eyes on him.

He looked back at her and nodded. "They seem trustworthy."

"You sure?"

He looked like he was about to smile and lifted one shoulder. "When are we ever?"

She turned to Jason and Reyna, who looked more than a little bewildered by the sudden onslaught of Greek.

"We're demigods." She told them, there was no point in beating around the bush when time was of the essence. Reyna blinked, looking like she had just been clobbered over her head, and then her expression cleared.

"I see… who are your parents?"

She looked at Nico, who shrugged. "I can't see the harm in telling them; they already know we're demigods and she'll probably work it out eventually."

Reyna arched an eyebrow at Nico's words, or at least, she had lifted it a little when Annabeth looked back at her.

She said, "Piper is a daughter of Aphrodite, Luke is a son of Hermes, Nico is a son of Hades, Thalia is a daughter of Zeus—"

Jason's eyes went as round as saucers. "Wait, that means I've got a half-sister!"

"You're a demigod!?" Nico asked, actually looking surprised for once instead of his normally passive expression. He stared at Jason like he had just grown two heads, just like the hydras she had heard from in legends. Annabeth covered a smile with her hand.

"Jason! You _know _how the Caesar is about demigods!" Reyna hissed in sync with Nico. They went silent for a long moment, Reyna peering over her shoulder like she was expecting someone to yell _demigods! _but nothing happened.

"What do you mean?" she asked, when Reyna looked back at them. Reyna sent a nasty look at Jason before she answered the question.

"I believe Octavius Caesar is afraid of demigods; that he thinks they will try to overthrow his perfect rule." The sarcasm was both clear and bitterer than the winter winds that used to burn Annabeth's face when she was young. "I don't know what he'd do if he found out if one of his praetors were a demigod, let alone both of them."

"You're a demigod too?"

She nodded. "My mater is Bellona." She paused and then looked at them a little more carefully. "Are you a demigod? Percy said your eyes don't belong to a mortal."

The first thought she had was: _of all things, it was my eyes to give away I'm more than a mere mortal? _The second, slightly delayed, one was: _wait, he noticed my eyes? What does that mean?_

"Yes," she admitted. "My mother is Athena."

Jason whistled lowly. "Whoa, don't let _that _get out. Romans and Minerva have some bad history, and then there's Percy with the possibility of being a son of either some water goddess or water god. Or maybe blessed by some water goddess or god, or a second or third generation"

"What?" she asked before she could stop herself. "What do you mean Percy could be a son of a water god or goddess? I thought he's fully mortal."

Jason and Reyna looked at each other, like they were having a silent conversation.

"He thinks he's fully mortal too." She began.

"But, there have been… instances." Jason finished, a strange expression crossing his face. He looked like he was about to be sick but at the same time he looked ready to jump up and start singing "Three Old Sailors Got Drunk in a Pub". "Percy's mater, Sally, she was originally from Sparta—"

"Wait, so he's half Greek?"

Reyna's lips thinned and her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. Annabeth was beginning to feel a little sorry for Jason, but he seemed to oblivious to the death stares his female counterpart gave him. Maybe he was used to her being close to attempt murder.

"Don't tell him that though; his mater died when he was seven while she was crossing the Mare Nostrum, and he has that strange abhorrence for Neptune."

"He hates Poseidon?" Nico asked from behind her, and she jumped a little. He had been so quiet she had forgotten he was even there. "Why would he hate Poseidon? I mean, Uncle P is one of the fairer gods."

This time Jason looked a little reluctant. Reyna's eyes flashed over to Nico, pinning him under that piercing stare she had. It made Annabeth feel vulnerable, her stare, like it could strip her bare and read each and every one of her secrets.

"You speak like you are family," she observed. Nico's lips quirked a little. "You act like you know him." The tiny smile slipped off his face and he looked at Annabeth without moving his head, like he was asking permission.

She nodded.

"I do," the admission slipped from his lips carefully, like he was testing their reactions. Reyna only stiffened, while Jason's eyebrow shot up in an eerie imitation of Reyna. Maybe it was an imitation of Reyna. "I'm… Pluto's ambassador, of sorts."

Reyna's eyes went wide, and Annabeth wondered if it was because of the admission or if—

"Shh!" Reyna hissed, "Act normal!"

"What? Why?" she asked before she could stop herself, and Reyna let out a soft giggle and wrapped her arm around Jason's.

Jason and Nico both looked disturbed.

"Oh, silly!" she said in a slightly higher tone than usual, but it somehow kept that down-to-earth quality in it. "You've got to have at _least _three drinks before you can relax fully. Right darling?" her eyes turned on Jason, who smiled a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Reyna, you're more than a little tipsy, again. I think we need to get you to your villa."

Reyna batted her eyes and leaned against him, her fingers sliding up his arm. "_Oh_, I see where you're going with this."

Annabeth didn't even bat an eye, she was growing used to the incestuous talk around this place. Nico, however, turned gray and then a little green.

And then Nico _looked _at her.

"Whatever you're thinking, I didn't do it." She said automatically, then she looked over his shoulder. A pair of guards disappeared around the bend.

"Okay, they're gone now." Jason muttered, and Reyna straightened her posture. He glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Really though, was that the best excuse you had?"

"_'I think we need to get you to your villa_,'" she mimicked his earlier words, but with a sultry and higher tone of voice. Jason's ears turned a little pink.

"I was just reacting, okay? And besides, _you _were the one who—"

"I had to keep in character—"

"Oh yeah, that's definitely you when you're drunk, and then _somehow _we get into _my _villa and—"

She slapped a hand over his mouth, it looked like it hurt, and glanced at her and Nico with a sheepish expression on her face. Annabeth resisted the urge to gag, and only grimaced. Poor Nico had turned himself into a shadow, probably to hide the fact that he was either puking his guts out or doing something else. Like sanitizing his ears.

"I'm pretty sure Annabeth, and Nico, don't want to hear about what we do in our free time, Jason. Honestly, how you're a praetor is beyond me…" she shook her head. He pulled away from her hand and grinned.

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who does the talking during the Senate meetings: you are."

Reyna returned the grin briefly, before she turned to face Annabeth again. She wondered if it was possible to melt into a puddle made out of water and blood; she certainly felt warm enough.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you're not from Roma."

She waved her hand dismissively. "That's a good thing then; I fit in. Anyway, they should be arrive in a few—"

There was the sound of feet pounding against the ground, and heavy breathing. She looked up and saw an average height, black haired woman clutching her stomach and using the wall to keep her balance.

"-Minutes." she finished.

"S-sorry," she gasped. "G-guards."

Nico materialized out of the shadows, a grin on his face. "You mean you were just busy with Luke."

She stuck her middle finger up at him, and straightened, clutching her side with one hand.

"Shut up, Death Breath," she took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm not that irresponsible," she paused and took a few more deep breaths. "And, I haven't seen him since this morning."

"That's just disgusting, Thalia." Nico muttered, screwing his face up. Jason's expression brightened from confusion while Reyna looked like she was about to groan for some reason.

Thalia cuffed him on the back of his head. "We're married, Nico. What do you expect?"

"A little more modesty?"

"Enough," Annabeth interrupted before they could get into a full on feud complete with lightning and earthquakes. Jason suddenly tackled Thalia in a hug, and Reyna rolled her eyes like this had happened too many times for her to be bothered about it. Nico looked like he was trying not to smile.

Luke appeared from around a corner, and he stared as Jason and Thalia battled it out in a full-out toggle/hug war, even though they were supposed to be serious right now... Or whatever they were doing— it kind of looked like he was trying to choke her.

He looked up at Annabeth. "Why do I get the feeling she wasn't in agreement with this treatment?"

"Oh, she wasn't," Nico looked _way _too gleeful over this. Annabeth raised her eyes to the ceiling for less than a heartbeat before she met his gaze again. Luke glanced at the two siblings before he shrugged, like he didn't want to know what they were arguing over.

"LET GO OF ME, I'M NOT IN ANY WAY RELATED TO YOU!"

"YES YOU ARE! WE HAVE THE SAME PATER!"

Thalia froze, and Jason took advantage of the fact by wrapping his arms around her neck and attempting to throttle her. Annabeth stepped away from the siblings. It wouldn't take too long for her to figure out who had let slip they were demigods, since Nico wasn't as talkative as she was… and Thalia had been the one to lecture all of them on not telling anyone they were demigods. Something she seemed to think Annabeth needed, since she did it _twice_ just for her.

You don't know how scary Thalia was when she got out on a roll. Her eyes were like lightning, and storm clouds literally swirled around her as she bent over you despite the fact she was tinier than most people.

"_Annabeth_?" Thalia's tone was a mixture of sweet and angry as her bright eyes snapped on her. Annabeth held her breath, she was about to blow up in three, two—

"Did you _tell _them?"

—one.

"About that… it just, kind of, slipped?" she laughed nervously when her eyes narrowed.

"Let me get this straight, they—" Thalia pointed at Jason, then at Reyna, "—know about our lineage? Yours too?"

Annabeth would have replied to that, she really would, but there was the sound of footsteps pattering against the ground of the hallway. She glanced over her shoulder where Piper was bent double, clutching her stomach.

The bell began the half hour ring.

"What's the plan?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked, looking up at Annabeth, probably expecting her to assume the role of the leader.

She glanced at Reyna, who nodded, a neutral expression settling on her face.

Annabeth switched her gaze back at the others, all of whom were looking at her. Her hands suddenly felt clammy and her mouth went dry, but she tried to ignore those. She was just nervous. That was all- she could easily ignore being nervous. It didn't matter that she had six people looking at her, expecting a plan to bust a slave out of a high security cell.

"This is our plan…"

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_"Nico, Luke, you're with me, since I'm going up to that girl to get her and I need your shadow traveling abilities. You, Luke, I need your lock picking abilities in case she's chained to the post. We're going to have to split up at first though, Nico, I need you to keep an eye out for trouble just in case. Luke... please,_ please_ don't pick-pocket anyone."_

Seven people rushed to where they belonged in the crowds.

_"Jason, Piper— you two together. Piper, since you can charmspeak, if anything goes wrong you can smooth things over, and if worst comes to worst then Jason'll be able to fly you out of there. I want you two to go to where she is going to be executed. _

_"Thalia, Reyna… just blend in the crowds and act as our lookout."_

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Annabeth chewed on her bottom lip and pressed herself against the walls as the people parted around her, making way for the Caesar and his imperial guard. She hoped he wouldn't recognize her— or Nico, or Luke, for that matter. That was the last thing they needed. Octavius would realize something was up the moment he saw her not with Percy.

Something clenched inside of her and her palms suddenly felt sweaty. Gods, what would happen to Percy if he _did_ catch her? The last time she had done something reckless, he had been the one to pay the price. What if he would have to pay it a second time? The Caesar didn't seem like someone who forgave and forgot easily— and she had a feeling he didn't give second chances either.

But this wasn't like last time… she had spoken out impulsively, without a plan. This time, while it was reckless, at least she had a plan.

There was a difference. And hopefully, if there were consequences, Percy won't be on the receiving end of them. Or anyone else for that matter.

Her shadow suddenly became long, even though the sun was set at it's highest point, and she tightened her hold on the dagger. She had no idea why she was keeping the bloody thing; she had no idea how to use it really. What had happened with that guard was just a fluke. A very luky fluke, granted, but a fluke all the same.

A pale hand, paler than death itself, popped out of her shadow. Annabeth knew who it was, she had told him to keep an eye out for trouble after all. The shadow twisted and churned, like the sea on a rough day (she should know what it looked like- she had been at sea for six months), then his left arm appeared, and then his other arm and head. He let out a small grunt and his fingers closed in on the pavement not covered by her shadow, and he hauled himself up. Part of his body hung over, like he was in a lake, and the shadow was the water while the ground was the ledge.

"You realize one day someone's going to notice that, right?" She asked.

Nico's head jerked up and his whole body went rigid, almost like he was surprised when she spoke, and she held his gaze for a moment. He shrugged, not smiling and picked at his fingernails.

"I doubt it. You'd be surprised by what people would believe if supernatural happened just to make things fit to their own version of reality."

She held her hand out, and he took it. Annabeth had no idea what he talked about when he said stuff like that, she didn't really understand it, but maybe she would one day.

"Anything interesting?" she inquired, pulling him to his feet.

He pressed his lips together into a tight line and his eyebrows furrowed together into a frown. A strange expression crossed his face, almost like he was baffled or worried. Maybe he was both.

"I don't know," he said slowly, enunciating every word carefully. "I couldn't Shadow Travel through her shadow. It's almost like…" he trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind, that's impossible. All living things have a shadow. I probably was just tired."

She nodded, sort of understanding what he was trying to tell her.

"Come on then. Luke's over there and we need to get to her." She resisted the urge to glance at Octavius, who was walking up to the dais overlooking the executioner's block and waving toward the crowd, which was stomping their feet on the ground and calling out for her blood just between the pauses. "We've got half a bell ring, at most."

She thought of Leo, a son of Hephaestus. Leo was a genius, utterly mad, maybe, but a genius. He pretended to act reckless, and he joked around a lot, but she knew it was all a front. He thought things through, unlike Thalia and Luke and Piper and… her. He was far from reckless, and that made him one of the most abnormal Greeks she had ever met.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Leo," she answered. "He'd probably have rescued Bianca by now, or at the very least, have a more solid plan. Maybe one day he and Percy would meet."

Nico hummed. "Maybe they will. You're going back to Greece in every second Autumn, right?"

She thought back to one of the last conversations she had had with her father.

_"Only during every other Autumn? But what if I hate it there!"_

_"That is not my problem. Learn to like it."_

_"B-but— father— are you sure? It's nearly a full moon to get from here to there. Do you _want _me to be so far from you?"_

_"Enough, Annabeth. I have been too lenient in allowing you this long to go unmarried— you have grown wild. Soon enough, you will be your new husband's property and his headache."_

She grimaced as she remembered what happened after that—her yelling at him she was no one's property, and that the Athenian governors were brainwashing him. It was probably her fault they had drifted apart so much, but she couldn't do anything about it anymore. It was too late to fix things between them.

"Yeah," she said softly.

She missed her old friends, and she missed Greece, but… something inside of her didn't like the idea of leaving Rome. It didn't make any sense; the violence was horrible, and she had a nasty feeling she had only seen the beginning of it, but there was just something about it she just couldn't place her finger on. She had new friends here, she no longer felt like she was being choked by a leash despite her heavier responsibilities, and there was Percy.

Yeah, there was definitely Percy. He… was complex, last night had proven that; she wanted to understand him. She didn't even know why anymore; she felt like it went beyond him being her husband. She just really wanted to understand him. Why he was this way, how he became this way, try to understand why he was determined to forgive Octavius for everything he's done wrong, even though logic clearly stated that the Caesar was corrupt behind redemption.

"Annabeth?"

She jerked her head up. Nico was ahead of her by a few paces, and he was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. She must have stopped walking.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm coming."

He shook his head. "No, not that. I just want to say that your plan is good for something you came up with on the spot."

A warm feeling filled her then and she quickened her pace until she was standing next to him. She was lucky she had such a good friend.

"Thanks," she said, and smiled.

His cheeks turned a little pink and he rubbed the back of his neck, then turned away to avoid meeting her eyes.

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Reyna somehow ended up walking next to her and Nico. Annabeth had no idea how it happened. One moment, Luke was walking next to her —silently— and then the next, Reyna was just _there_. She hadn't even heard the praetor walk up, or Luke walk away! It was like Reyna had popped up like a ghost.

So, naturally, she had to stifle a shriek. She probably _would_ have shrieked if they weren't on a mission to rescue someone's life.

Reyna looked like she was struggling not to smile.

"You and Jason, huh?" Annabeth asked, attempting to diverge from the subject. Reyna's face turned impassive.

"I guess."

There was something strange about Reyna's tone. It was tense, but there was a mixture of something else Annabeth couldn't quite place. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"What do you mean guess?" She turned to look at her, but Reyna kept her eyes fixed on a spot up ahead.

"It's complicated. Then again, it's _always _complicated when you love someone." Her tone was bitter, and Annabeth couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Maybe her 'happy relationship' with Jason was just for show. Maybe she didn't really love him… or maybe she did, and he didn't return the feelings. But it seemed like both of them were completely heads over heels.

"You're lucky, you know?" Reyna's voice was suddenly soft. Annabeth couldn't help but look at her. "You love Percy, and I think he loves you back, even though you just met."

"What?" she was pretty sure she had misheard Reyna. There was no way she loved Percy, maybe she liked him, as a friend, but loved? That was pushing it. She barely knew him. There was no way she could love someone she just met— it just didn't make sense.

Reyna smiled slightly, looking slightly happier. "You'll see eventually."

Annabeth was just about to ask just what she mean by that, when the crowd suddenly began muttering. The bells began to chime, and she felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of icy water over her.

They were too late.

"No…" Reyna murmured next to her, stopping as well.

The slave girl was being dragged up to the hanging block, her hands tied in front of her and her hair falling everywhere. One of the guards spat at her, and another said something which made her flinch away. A third placed his hand on her shoulder and steered her up, his grip making the ratty clothes made of towels bend.

The people had split apart like a stream did to rocks, leaving her in full view of the Caesar, so even if they tried to save her, they would be caught. And Annabeth knew it would be like this for the rest of the way— the men would humiliate and beat the girl, and the crowds would part like the sea. They would just stand there and watch.

It made her feel sick.

"No!" Nico suddenly lunged forward, his voice suddenly much shriller then she remembered it ever being. "No! No!"

She exchanged a swift glance with Reyna then, as one, surged forward and wrapped her arms around the his wiry, flailing frame.

"Bianca!" He screamed, "Bianca!"

"Nico!" Annabeth gasped when his elbow made contact with her stomach. "What in Hades is wrong with you?!"

The slave girl's head whipped around at the name, and her eyes somehow met Nico's. He stopped attempting to wrench her shoulders out of their sockets, and he seemed to be trying to say something to her, but the girl only shook her head sadly. A nasty suspicion was forming inside of her head.

Nico had had a sister. He had been Spartan, and he had been a slave, before her father stepped in. He had been bought because he was a man, and a son of Hades. But his sister was a woman. He still was a slave, technically.

"Bianca!" he pressed his hand against the arm Reyna was holding against his chest, restraining him. "Bianca…"

And then the slave girl, Bianca, smiled sadly and met Annabeth's eyes. She shook her head slightly, and then one of the guards pushed her.

"Move, wrench," he said. She tried to bite him, but he pulled away just before she did.

She tossed her head back and her long, dark hair swayed down her back. In that moment, she resembled one of the ladies in her father's court- tall, graceful and beautiful, but slightly detached and unapproachable.

Annabeth felt like she was about to begin choking, and she shoved her way out of the crowd.

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"Please, we've got to save her. There's got to be a way to save her."

Nico was pacing in dizzying circles. Annabeth felt horrible. She want to scream, she wanted to punch something, she wanted to march right on out there... she wanted to cry.

And yet she was doing nothing. There was nothing that could be done now. She was gone, just like that. Hanged.

He looked at her pleadingly.

"Annabeth? There's got to be a way."

She shook her head. "There could have been a chance to create a diversion, but the Caesar would know who made it and the consequences—"

"Damn the consequences!" Nico's voice was fierce, interrupting her. A lump rose in her throat and she pressed the back of her hand against her eyes. There was nothing she could do now; the slave girl was dead. "Annabeth; what's gotten into you? It isn't like you to hesitate. This is my _sister _we're talking about— there's nothing worse than—"

"Nico!" she raised her voice. He stumbled back, like he had been physically pushed, and she reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Nico, she's gone. Your sister is dead."

He stepped away from her, shaking his head. His mouth was moving, but he wasn't saying anything. The look on his face was enough to express the accusations he wanted to throw at her.

Something inside of her seemed to pull when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"What's happening to you?" he finally whispered. "You're becoming someone I don't know."

He spun on his heel and disappeared into the shadows.

Luke moved forward, and she looked down at the ground.

"I'm sorry Luke," her voice broke a little. "I tried." She clenched her fists.

And then he spun on his heel and walked away.

As soon as he was out of her sight, she crumbled to the ground and felt a choking sensation rise inside of her. She felt like she was going to suffocate. Not only that, but she may have just lost two friends and maybe Nico was right— maybe she was changing too much. This wasn't her. It couldn't be. What happened to her? Was she turning heartless? How could she choose to do _nothing _while another human being was being march to their imminant death?

She wanted to claw her insides out and tear them into a thousand tiny pieces. Why was she the one who had to choose this? She knew people say it's better to have the freedom of your own choice then having someone choose for you, but no freedom was worth being the one to have to make that choice. There had been a chance to save that girl if she had decided to just damn the consequences. She was a hypocrite; she had let someone die, and had essentially done nothing. She had just told Percy that you had to damn the consequences and do what's right, but then she had turned her back on that and now an innocent girl was _dead_...

What was _wrong_ with her?

A scream escaped her lips as the tears finally began to fall out of her eyes.

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Later on, Annabeth somehow found her way to Meg's chambers. She didn't remember how, or when she started moving. It was all so surreal. It didn't even feel real— she probably would have thought this was a dream, but it wasn't. She dreamed in black and white. There weren't any gray areas; everything was defined. And this wasn't defined. Everything felt wrong now, twisted and distorted beyond belief. No colors anymore, just gray. There was nothing beautiful left.

"Percy?" she whispered, walking over to where he slept. His chest wasn't moving up and down, and she her breathing suddenly picked up. He _couldn't _be dead, if he was dead then she probably _would _try to kill someone, or march down and punch Thantos in his face.

Tears began to form in her eyes again and she stepped forward, reaching out tentatively. She placed her hand on his arm. It felt warm. Then his chest shuddered.

She couldn't begin to describe the relief she felt in that moment that rushed over it in a tidal wave. It left her knees weak and her body tingling and now she really _was _crying again. Her hand shook as she sat down next to him, then she moved it up until it was resting against his chest. She pulled her legs up and hugged them with her free arm, just looking at him.

He looked peaceful in his sleep, like a child almost. His forehead was smooth from frown marks and his eyes were closed, but he didn't smile or frown.

She placed her head on top of her knees, closed her eyes, and wrapped her other arm around her legs. She tried to make herself as small as possible, so that maybe she would be protected from this cruel world known as reality.

She had lost at least two friends today. Thalia was ignoring her, and Piper's replies were clipped and short. Nico probably hated her right now, and he didn't forgive mistakes easily, which meant it was doubtful he ever really _would _forgive her. She hadn't seen Luke in hours.

What would everyone back in Greece think of her right now?

"Guess there's a consequence for every action I take." She muttered. A laugh began to bubble at her lips, and she saw no reason in keeping it in. "Try to save the slave girl, and endanger you. Try to keep you safe and lose your friends. I don't understand why."

She raised her head and looked out of the window. The moon was out, and the stars shone in the sky. They reminded her of the diamond she saw once when she was little; sparkling and mysterious.

"Why did I have to choose this?" she asked quietly, and ran her hand across her face. She felt hallow now "Why was it me?" She looked at his face and almost smiled. He looked so different when he was asleep. Moonbeams shone down on him, and it was clear of his usual scowl or smirk. He looked relaxed.

She bit her bottom lip and suddenly lifted the sheets on the bed. She felt undeniably nervous, and she thought of the guard's leering gaze before she pushed it into the back of her mind. She was not going to be scared of Percy; he was defenseless.

She shifted herself until she was under the sheets too and moved until there was no air against them. Her body began to relax and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his chest. She doubted he would even realize it, and if he did, she'd make him forget somehow.

At least she was safe right now. No more questions; no more choices. At least he wouldn't judge her right now... he couldn't. She knew he'd probably hear about it eventually, but for now, she was safe.

What an odd word, "safe". She didn't even know the meaning of it anymore. It had been so long since she had actually felt safe.

Maybe it was what she deserved. Maybe she was a bad person after all. How on earth was she lucky enough to get Percy as her husband again? She certainly didn't deserve him…

"I'm sorry, Percy." She whispered as she fell asleep, even though she knew he wouldn't hear it.


	12. Capvt XI: Into the Dark

**A Crown of Golden Leaves  
><strong>by xXTheDragonRiderXx  
>Janurary 2015<p>

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><p><strong>Special thanks to my lovely Beta: <strong>ThePraetorLady  
><strong>Thank you for reviewing: <strong>IceeFlower, ANYONE, Guest, HaywireEagle, FandomsAreMyLife4Ever, Patricia Starara

**Author's Note: **Oh dear, it's already 2015 . . . o.O I have no idea how that happened. One moment it's 2012, and now it's 2015. Man, now I know what people mean by time going by more quickly when you grow older . . . :3

Anyway, thank you so much for the feedback everyone! I've broken my old record of 66 (or something like that . . . maybe it's 61 . . .). :) Think we can hit 100 on both reviews and follows? :)

The vote's been settled, by the way: irregular updates.

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><p><strong>Guest Review Reply <strong>

IceeFlower: Thanks! And yeah, irregular updates it is then. You're acutally the only one who replied to that annoucement . . . *scratches back of head*

ANYONE: Uh, no smut. :3 I'll reference to smut, but that's as far as I'll go. I don't have any intention to make this an M rated fic, especially since I have a younger audience. :) Thank you for your feedback though!

Guest: Aw, thank you! :) I'm glad you think my writing is great. And 5 hours . . . well, can't say I don't know the feeling. -.- I hope your trip went well though! :)

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><p><span>Capvt XI: Into the Dark<span>

**Percy  
><strong>_Spring, x176 BC_

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><p>For the first time in years, Percy dreamt of Rachel.<p>

No, shut up— it wasn't like _that_. It was actually one of those weird dreams, the ones when everything seemed to be right in front of you, and yet at same time everything was far away.

He had been having these dreams since he was a child, but he wasn't entirely sure if they even were dreams. He had dreamt of Rachel's death months before it even happened, and he used to dream of Annabeth when he had been a child, before his mater drowned.

He had forgotten about them, the dreams he used to have for over a year, until . . . well, the gladiators. Annabeth had been standing over him that night, and he had remembered them then. She had been in the same position as the Annabeth in one of his dreams. Her eyes had been worried and her face pale, and he had said the same thing both times.

_Stay with me, please._

He hadn't understood it when he was younger; he had just passed it off as a strange dream. It had been easy to think it was nothing too; after all, he had quite a lot of strange dreams. Still did, as a matter of fact . . .

Like this one.

He looked at the woman more carefully. She was walking into the white mist that was descending upon the clearing, coming from somewhere ahead of him. She had to be the woman who had been his best friend and fiancé. Her red hair was still that same shade that reminded him of fire, and her hips rolled in the same tantalizing way as she strutted away from him.

"Rachel?" he called out, his voice strangely hoarse. She looked over her shoulder, green eyes bright, and smiled at him. It was a sad sort of smile though, the one she gave him just before her head had fallen back.

That was when he began to run after her, his heart leaping into his throat. Was she still alive? Maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe he could save her, unlike last time.

The dryads seemed to decide they had a personal vendetta against him. A branch scratched at his face when he ran past it, and roots seemed to pop out of the ground. He pushed them aside with his arms, trying to keep Rachel in sight as she kept gliding through the forest, her red hair swaying across her back.

Something sharp suddenly caught his back, and a scream tore its way out of his throat. He stumbled to the ground, instinctively reaching behind to touch his back; it seemed to _throb. _Now, normally, it wouldn't have caused him so much pain, but it had caught him by surprise and the wounds he got from that flogging.

Something warm and thick welled up on his hands and he swore. They had reopened again.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. _In, out, in, out_, he chanted to himself, trying to stop his heart from thumping so hard. He needed oxygen so that he could think clearly. His back was bleeding, which meant he had reopened the wounds he acquired from that flogging.

_Which was Annabeth's fault, _he thought, then pushed it away. It wasn't her fault. Well, it was, but he didn't blame her. He _shouldn't _blame her. She still felt horrible about it.

_Okay_, he told himself. The pain kept coming in waves, which was new sensation. Generally, it hurt immediately (like, a lot a lot) and then gradually eased up, or it was numb at first, then it began to hurt. The pain flared up, then went numb, then flared up again. It really, _really _hurt.

_You're fine, Perseus, _he scolded himself. _Stop being a child and man up. Breathe in, breathe out . . ._

He opened his eyes after a few moments, only to greet darkness. No, really. The world all around him was covered in darkness.

The only simple way to explain it was that there was no light. The sun had been blotted out, as well as the moon and stars. Percy felt like he had been locked into a small, confined space that held no light again, like that time when he was younger and had been trying to teach himself to control his claustrophobia. There was just pitch darkness, and nothing else—no light, no gray areas, or white. Nothing.

"Honestly," a warm voice groaned, coming from somewhere above him. He glanced up and saw Rachel standing in a tunnel made out of white light. Her hair was like fiery glory, and it swayed across her face, but she kept trying to blow it out of her eyes. "Do I _really_ need to hold your hand? Because we settled this when we were courting—we don't hold hands when we're around people."

He felt a grin tug at his lips, which surprised him a little. When he was younger, he used to laugh and smile a lot, but now the actions were almost alien. The only times he did laugh were usually because it was proper etiquette, even though the person hadn't said anything remotely funny.

"You don't need to hold my hand, Rach. Well, you're not trying to kill me, right? Because then you'll have to drag me after you, because I really don't feel like dying yet— I have a kingdom I have to rule and I'm pretty sure pater won't be happy. I've heard that when you see white light—"

She punched him in the shoulder. It didn't hurt, but he rubbed it just to be nice.

"Shut up. Just take my damn hand, or you'll never get out of the Shadow Lands."

It was then he realized his back didn't sting. He felt his breath hitch as he pulled his hand out in front of him, but there was none of that dark, sticky substance he hated so much. There was no blood.

When he glanced up, Rachel was still holding her hand out. She was being patient, which was a first— normally she hated waiting.

He took her hand quickly, intertwining his fingers between hers. She smiled at him, and his feet moved from underneath him. He felt like a strange, buzzing feeling begin deep inside his chest, and his face felt like it was about to crack in half. She led the way into the light, ahead of him by a few steps, as she always was. Eventually, it got so bright he had to squint. Her form began to disappear like fog had descended upon them, or she was flickering between life and death. He could have sworn the warmth of her hand disappeared a few times, except when the thought crossed his mind, it was there again.

"This way, Perseus," she murmured into his ear. He was being led into the dark, except instead of blackness, it was white light. His fingers closed around thin air.

He'd lost her. Again.

He shook his head and scolded himself mentally. She was right in front of him— she hadn't left him.

The tunnel suddenly widened, and when he blinked, the white mist had been replaced with a field of bright colors. As far as his eye could see, there were a million shades of yellows, blues, pinks, oranges, reds, whites, and browns and greens that bled and mixed together until the scene was burned into his eyes.

Wildflowers.

The sky was a deep blue color, and the breeze played with the edges of his toga. When he inhaled deeply, he could smell the sweet fragrance of the flowers. It was summertime, except it was a nice day for once— not terribly hot or humid.

He knew this scene—it was one of his favorite memories.

He heard laughter on the breeze, and two children appeared over the hills. The one in the lead had red hair, Rachel, but he—well, little him—was just behind her. Percy's breath hitched at the happiness on a smaller version of his face as little him tumbled to the ground and rolled down the hill. That had been him a long time ago. He had been happy.

Rachel bent double, wrapping her arms around her stomach and laughing breathlessly.

"I won!" she crowed. Little Percy frowned up at her.

"You cheated."

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head and stretched out on the grass by Little Percy's side. Her back faced the sky as she played with a flower that had a black center and the petals were the color of the sun. Percy crept closer to the children, trying to not to step on the wildflowers.

"Braid my hair with these flowers!" She commanded, sitting bolt upright. The small version of himself groaned and flipped over so that his face was in the ground.

"Not _again_, Rachel . . . seriously, when did you become such a _girl_?"

Percy shook his head at himself and stifled a soft laugh. Rachel reached out and slugged him in the shoulder.

"That's because I _am _a girl, dummy!"

Small Percy lifted his face off the ground and stared at her like she had just grown two heads. Rachel lifted her chin and turned her nose up—her _I'm superior than you are and you know it _face.

"Do I _have _to?"

In answer to his inquiry, she hauled him up (she said she was a girl, but Percy was pretty sure she was superhuman) and handed him a thin leather strip. Small Percy raised his eyes to the sky, like he was asking _why me? _and lifted his hands. Rachel held a daisy over her shoulder and Small Percy plucked it out of her hand.

"So, what would you be if you weren't Heir Apparent?" she asked, wiggling her toes a little. "If I wasn't a peasant, I would be a princess! Or an artist."

Percy felt a lump form in his throat but he swallowed it back. Small Percy shrugged his shoulders, sticking his tongue out as he focused on entwining the three sections of her hair. Rachel kept picking wildflowers and handing them over to him.

"I'd probably be, um . . ."

"That's all? Um? I've never heard of ums before." Rachel's eyes crinkles a little, the way they do when she was smiling but trying not to smile. It had been something that had always irritated him, even after they had started courting.

"Hey! Stop laughing at me!" Small Percy waved his (current) freehand around. "I can always leave your braid half finished."

Rachel went stiff, and Small Percy nodded to himself with a satisfied expression etched deep into his face. Percy cringed inwardly, remembering her face. Gods, it had been awful.

"Don't. You. Dare." Her eyes turned into slits and she twisted around. Small Percy's eyes widened. "Do you understand?"

Small Percy nodded quickly, and Rachel went back to humming to himself and picking wildflowers.

"I think I'd like to do something with the ocean."

The scene froze at Small Percy's words. Rachel and Small Percy went as still as the great oak trees that towered above Percy when he went into the large grove outside of Roma. The wildflowers stopped rippling, making the sunlight stop bouncing all around the clearing in an almost ethereal light. Percy wasn't afraid though; he just stared at the sky above the hills and waited.

"This was a lifetime ago," Rachel commented. Her voice would have been casual if not for the sadness in it. When he turned, she looked like she was made of sunlight, yet he was pretty sure she was solid. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"We would have made beautiful babies," she sounded thoughtful. He choked on air, feeling the undeniable warmth in his ears. She had always been the one without tact in their relationship . . . and the proactive one too.

"Yeah, well, it's not going to happen now."

She sighed. "No, it's not. You're married to a different woman now, and I'm dead."

He tried to imagine it, Rachel and him. They would have been married for five cycles by now, with maybe a child or two. He could see them clearly: a girl with long red hair and his green eyes, and a boy with black hair and Rachel's nose and freckles. Rachel could have been with another child too. He would spoil his girl relentlessly, calling her Little Princess, while he played catch with his son. Rachel would yell at him for not setting out the blanket.

He stopped it before it could go too far, but it was already too late. The vision was etched into his mind's eye.

"I find it funny how you prioritize me being married to Annabeth over you being dead." He deadpanned, but he didn't really find it funny. He would have been happier with her. Rachel certainly wouldn't have spoken out like Annabeth had in the Caesar's presence.

(He really was no good at not holding a grudge against her, was he?)

"You need to let me go, Perseus." She murmured. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling like he wanted to punch something— and maybe scream about how unfair the world was.

"I know," he muttered. "Believe me, I know. It's not easy though."

She didn't respond. Percy frowned, wondering why she hadn't responded —_did something happen to her? —_ and he began to open his eyes.

"Rachel? Is there—" he choked when a cold feeling engulfed him. Darkness bled into the meadow, the source of it coming from Small Percy and Rachel's shadows. It descended like a tidal wave, quick and dangerous. Percy spun around, but the darkness was bleeding out from the trees as well. There was nowhere left to run. Even the sky was being blotted out with darkness, and he was _sure _that was not in his memory.

Then suddenly, it was upon him. Percy felt like someone had wrapped their hand around his mouth and was trying to make him suffocate. His lungs were burning, yet when he reached up, there were no hands holding him hostage—

He was underwater. It was green-blue all around him, and the ocean floor was visible*. When he looked up, he could see a bright spot. _Sunlight_, a part of him thought. His lungs were burning, his brain was fogging up, and he was pretty sure he was drowning.

_Swim, you useless idiot! _a voice which sounded suspiciously like Reyna's yelled at him.

_I don't wanna swim, _he argued with it.

_Then I'll make you spar with me! _Reyna's voice barked. He grimaced, training with Reyna was _never _fun, and he kicked his legs.

He pushed his arms out in front of him and then snapped them back to his sides, cutting through the motionless water. Water rushed between his ears (or was that blood?) and darkness was beginning to cloud his vision. He was _so close _to that sunlight now. He kicked his shoes off and reached up again, this time for the light. It was rippling, and it was all around him. He had hit the current now, too, and it was trying to tug him off to the side.

His hand broke through the water, and he pulled himself up. He took a deep, shuddering gasp of air, and it flooded his lungs. His mind felt dizzy, but alert. He wasn't dead. Always a good thing.

The sun and sea suddenly rippled and began to fade away. Percy felt the darkness around him, and he managed to take one last gulp of air before he sank under the dark waves. It was no longer blue-green under the water: it was black. It didn't feel right—it felt _wrong_.

Suddenly, the darkness gave away to moonlight and he was standing in the middle of the deserted streets of Roma. He knew that without even looking at his surroundings properly—this was his city, his country, his kingdom. He had walked through these streets so often that he could figure out how to get around Roma blind.

Then he realized he couldn't hear anything, and a chill ran down his spine. It wasn't natural. Roma was _never _completely silent.

A wind suddenly tugged the edges of his toga out in front of him, and Percy covered his eyes with his arm. Debris suddenly shot into the air, like a tornado had touched down right in the center of Roma.

Then it died down. Percy opened his eyes again and looked around him. It was still the same.

_Alright_ then. This was officially the strangest dream he ever had.

Suddenly, Roma rippled all around him, like a rock had been thrown into a puddle. Percy felt a scream rip its way out of his throat when the ground shifted beneath his feet and he launched himself at a tree to catch his balance.

A throng of monsters marched upon Roma, their expressions blank as they swept across the streets. Chaos was all around him, women were screaming, children were crying, men were rushing toward any weapon they could get their hands on. Everyone was panicking.

His heart leapt into his throat as he spun around in a full circle. He didn't know where he should help out first, who needed his help the most.

"Don't panic," he called out, reaching toward a small girl who had hair the color of the sun. She ran _threw _his body, and he stumbled back. His heart pounded and he felt like he had fallen into a lake during winter all of a sudden. He was breathing heavily as his heart sank into his stomach and he stared at the tiny thing as she ran blindly through the fighting.

Blood was everywhere, blood and monster dust. The monsters kept on coming, and more and more Romans fell around him.

Something inside of him snapped and he felt a sick, churning feeling in his stomach. How dare they? This was _his _home and they weren't allowed to hurt his people. This was his kingdom—he was supposed to be the head of defense. How did he not realize something was wrong before this happened?

He reached for a pitchfork, but when he tried to pick it up, the weapon went through his fingers.

_No_. _No, no, no, no, no_. He couldn't be—he had to help them somehow, in some way. He had to be corporal.

Hazel appeared next to him, and he nearly sighed out of relief. He didn't know her as well as he knew Reyna or Jason, but she was definitely trustworthy (and kind).

"Hazel," he said, walking over to her. He winced when he heard a loud roar and a crash. "I need you to grab the second legion and form rank to—"

She walked _through_ him.

Percy felt something tight in his chest and his breathing started to become quick and unsteady. Realization dawned in him, and it brought a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He wasn't corporal; he couldn't help them.

The scene shifted again, dissolving in a whirl and forming quickly, like he was riding on an eagle. It was Jason now. He was holding his sword in front of him, his eyes wild but alert as he swung it around in a wide circle, his legs crouched into a defensive position. Percy remembered those eyes, back when he had first met the son of Jupiter: Jason had attacked him and Reyna with a dagger in one of the back allies they had took when going back to the palace one evening . . . he had been higher than a bird because of the opium in his system. Percy remembered looking down on him with disgust, absolutely not pitying the boy who was merely a couple of years older than him. Homeless, a drug addict, a delinquent and absolutely off his rockers.

No pity at all. He still had no idea how Rachel and Reyna had managed to convince him to help him, even though Jason _clearly_ hadn't wanted it at the time.

(Actually, he remembered him yelling about how there was nothing "wrong" with him.)

"Where are you?" Jason shouted, his voice a little higher than usual. He was jumping on his feet lightly, a habit he had never been able to completely break. "I know you're here!"

Percy stepped into the light, feeling a slight flutter of hope inside of him. Maybe not all was lost. Maybe there was a chance he could see him, or sense him. Whatever.

A woman stepped forward as well. He froze when her silver eyes landed on him, his breath hitching in his throat. A chill ran deep into his bones as he realized that this woman was _not _someone he wanted to have as an enemy—she was ruthless, she was cruel, and she was _dangerous_. He didn't know how he knew that though.

He felt the tension drain out of him when they drifted over to Jason. Then he felt guilty he felt relieved when he saw his forehead glimmering with sweat and his hands shaking as he brandished his sword out in front of him.

"You're not going to sacrifice them!"

The scene suddenly dissolved into white light.

"No!" he screamed out of sheer frustration, trying to push at the white light away. As if that would do anything. "I need to know what he's talking about! That's my home, dammit! I need to help them!"

The white light didn't budge, and he kicked it. He lost his balance and fell with a yelp to the ground, wincing slightly. His back hurt again, and when he rolled over, a crimson substance flecked what he assumed was the ground. It looked sort of endless, and even as he watched, it slowly began to bubble and dissolve.

A shiver ran through him. What _was _this place?

"Hello, Perseus."

His heart leapt to his throat. That voice, it was _his _voice, except it wasn't. It was overlaid with other voices, making it almost . . . echo, sort of. No, that wasn't right. It sounded like a thousand souls were trapped in that voice—and that was a scary thought.

Then he looked up, and stared at the . . . _thing_.

A humanoid figure stood in front of him. It was the same height as he was, and it had the same built, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of having eyes and a mouth and a nose and skin and ears and hands and feet and everything else, it was made out of pure, white light. A shadowy outline surrounded the figure so that it stood out against the white and didn't blend in with it, and yet when he glanced down, it had no shadow.

An unpleasant, tingling sensation pricked at the back of his neck, yet when he glanced over his shoulder, no one was there.

"Don't worry," it said. "The sprites won't harm you unless I tell them to."

That didn't exactly reassure him. Percy cautiously reached for his sword, but it wasn't there and he couldn't feel his dagger where it usually hid by his hip. He eyed the thing, wondering if it was going to harm him or if it was going to help him. What were its intentions?

No, wait, there was more important matter . . .

"What are you?"

The figure chuckled, like he found something incredibly amusing about his question. Percy balled his fists by his sides when it waved its arm, like it was shooing away a pesky fly or dismissing a slave. He never liked being laughed at, and he _hated _it when people treated him as inferior. That was why he tried to treat everyone as equal, even Grover, though he was a slave. They were all human, nothing more, nothing less, and in the end, they all came in and went out the same way. No man had the right to call himself 'superior' to another—that was arrogance: they were all flawed in some way or other, and anyone who didn't see that was a fool.

His mater taught him that, before she drowned. It was one of her basic principles: "Treat your neighbor as you would treat yourself." That was one of her favorite maxims.

"I am the very first being in the universe. I am the very air which you tiny humans breathe in and exhale. I am the balance that keeps the scales between good and evil even. I am the first Protogenoi." He paused dramatically, before proclaiming; "I am Khaos."

"Oh." His voice was considerably smaller than it had been before. He felt a little dizzy actually, and he pressed a hand to the side of his head. Maybe he was losing too much blood? "So, uh . . . what about your siblings? Are they here or, err, somewhere in, um, Abyss?"

He was pretty sure that was the name of the deepest pit of Tartarus anyway, Abyss. Just the name gave him a bad feeling and he pushed himself up so that he was in a sitting position. Khaos. Κηαος. Yeah. Nothing to be worried about—he was just talking to the deity who created the universe. No biggie.

"Do _not _speak of that accursed pit." Khaos' voice was still the same infuriating calm tone, but there was an edge of danger hidden behind it. "I was trapped there for eons with Gaea, Ouronos and Pontos. Do you have _any _idea of how torturous that was? While my siblings bickered away like three little rabbits, I had to endure the migraines it gave me. Migraines! It was horrible!"

Γαεα, Οθρονος, Ποντος. Yeah, the earth, the sky and the sea. Must have been fun.

He nodded quickly. "Sorry, sorry." He held his hands up, crossing his legs. "It must have been awful, erm, Lord Khaos?"

"It was," Khaos had a satisfied tone in its voice. "That is why I am going to help you . . . possibly. My younger sister, Nyx, well, she's managed to bribe Eris into her agenda to bring all twelve of us back."

Percy felt his face crease into a frown. Bring all twelve of them back? But wouldn't that be a _good _thing for Khaos? After all, wouldn't he, she, it —_whatever_— wouldn't it _want _to come back and overthrow the gods?

"Of course not!" Khaos snapped, waving its hand. He must have spoken that last thought aloud or something (or Khaos was a mind reader . . . it wouldn't surprise him. _Nothing _could surprise him anymore).

Khaos stood up and began to walk away. Percy copied its motions and followed it, clasping his hands behind his back like he did whenever he was in the presence of his pater. He didn't want it to get out of sight: to be honest, he didn't trust it. At all. Obviously he couldn't tell it that in its face, so he had to go for subtlety.

"I don't want them to run rampant throughout the world— the balance was completely thrown off! Fate, destiny, good, evil, right, wrong, all that shebang— the balance must remain perfectly balanced. Neither side can win in this eternal battle. No, I don't want to overthrow the gods."

He frowned. "So, you're a good guy then?" The image was rather difficult to wrap his head around. He had always pictured Khaos as a dark haired man with a mustache trying to take over the world. Not . . . _this_.

"No, Perseus," its voice was suddenly heavy. "I am not 'good', I am _chaos_. My name is _chaos _for a reason—I am the one who keeps the balance in check, which means that my personality can tip over any moment. One moment, I can be working for the gods and helping them, the next I can be helping Nyx."

Percy frowned.

"Not that I would expect you humans to understand the concept of the balance." Khaos chuckled to himself under his breath after he finished that sentence. Percy tried to burn a hole in the back of its white head . . . well, he was pretty sure it was the back of the head.

"Are you saying you could be trying to make me choose the wrong option?"

Khaos turned so that it was facing him, possibly. It walked up to him, and Percy wondered what it was thinking, what it was feeling—if it could feel or think anything. Was it like an animal in that way? Only acting on instinct? Or was it sort of like a human, who had rational thought and expression?

Darkness began to bleed into his vision again. This time though, he didn't start panicking, nor did he fight it.

"I don't know."

He stared at it, not exactly sure _what _he should think or feel. A small stirring of pity began inside of him though, and he couldn't squash it no matter how hard he tried. If it wasn't lying, then to not know if you were good or evil . . . that seemed awful.

"Can I trust you?"

"I don't know. I may be trying to help you, but at the same time, I may be trying to deceive you—lead you astray."

Percy looked down at the ground, or, at least down at his feet. Everything was made out of white mist— there was no ground, or sky. Just a blinding white vastness, that had no end or beginning. It didn't make sense, how a place like this could exist.

Nothing made sense anymore, actually. He had no idea what to feel toward Annabeth. Rachel wanted him to move on (along with Jason and Reyna). His pater had sentenced him to a fifty lashes at that flogging, and he got nearly sixty or seventy. The flogging was technically Annabeth's fault, since she spoke up to his pater about that slave girl. That slave girl, Bianca, told him Roma lived in fear though that didn't make sense. Roma was a _happy _place . . .

He had no idea anymore. It was just too much.

"I almost wish I can help you."

When he looked up again, Khaos had disappeared, and hands made out of purple-black shadows were reaching out toward him. They were long and fragile looking, but he didn't like them. They didn't particularly _feel _malicious, but there was something _there_ that told him they weren't safe. He wanted to get away from them . . .

He contemplated running, but they were almost upon him and he had a feeling that they would just catch him anyway. There was no use fighting against them.

So, he closed his eyes, exhaled, and let the darkness descend upon him, blocking out all the light in wherever this thing was.

After all, Roma was the safest place right now in this world, flawed though it was. Nothing like what he saw in this dream could happen to it. This was just a manifestation of his worse fears.

It was impossible.

Yeah, nothing bad could happen to Roma.

This was definitely one weird dream. It was going to give him a headache when he woke up, trying to figure this one out. He could feel it coming on already.

* * *

><p>*<em>Don't tell me it's impossible to see the ocean floor. Just don't. I know this as a fact—I've been out at sea for weeks at a time, and <em>yes, _it's crystal clear out there. Heck, I live right on a bay (a very, very cold bay at the moment, which has loads of sharks in it…) and the bottom is probably a mile down and I can see all the way down . . . even though it's really, really dark. Hmm, maybe I can't see all the way done then._

* * *

><p><strong>End Note: <strong>So, what do you think of Percy's "dream"? Do you even think it was a dream? What do you think of the Percy/Rachel interaction? Was this dream confusing? What do you think of this "Khaos" fellow (by the way, a visual for him, uh, Truth from Fullmetal Alchemist), or this mysterious woman? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT PERCY'S BACKSTORY IN A PREQUEL NOW!? (It may happen eventually, if I find an excuse/opportunity to write it . . .)

Wait, I need to clear something up before I get questions about it. **THIS WILL _NOT _BECOME A CHAOS STORY. **I repeat, **THIS WILL NOT BECOME A CHAOS STORY. **Khaos (I hope you guys realize we've been spelling his name wrong all this time. The Greek alphabet has no 'C'!) will be a part of the story, but he (or she, or it… is it bad I haven't decided a gender for it?) will not be the "main thing", I suppose. On the other hand, he/she/it won't exactly be a minor character in some ways . . . And that's all I'm saying. ;) Sorry munchkins.


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